


Be Brave, Little Fox

by Emberxashton



Series: Little Fox [2]
Category: Black Widow (Movie 2020), Captain America (Movies), Deadpool (Movieverse), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Defenders (Marvel TV), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha Natasha Romanov, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha Tony Stark, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate universe - Mafia, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Coercion, Dark Avengers - Freeform, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Sex, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, M/M, Manipulation, Multi, Omega Peter Parker, Pietro Maximoff Lives, Pining, Platonic Soulmates, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Bucky Barnes, Possessive Natasha Romanov, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Avengers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Tony Stark, Romantic Soulmates, Smut, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:55:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 40
Words: 237,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22747438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emberxashton/pseuds/Emberxashton
Summary: Sequel to previous work "Soldier On, Little Fox". Please read that first or else you will not understand this part of the story.Violet Mason, a brash and outspoken Omega who doesn't know when to quit, and Peter Parker, a precious cinnamon roll of an Omega who's too good for this world, are being held captive by The Avengers, who are far from the heroes we all know them to be. In this world, Alphas reign supreme while Omegas are treated like animals. The Avengers seemingly rule the world, but suffer many hiccups as Violet continues to fight their unbreakable hold. She's not the type to back down from a fight. With Peter Parker at her side, her brother for all intents and purposes, the pair stand up to the formidable force of their captors and fight to survive, earning all sorts of allies from around the globe as they do.Will they break from the Avengers unbreakable hold and live free from their tyranny, or succumb to the Alphas commands and bend to their will?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov/Original Female Character(s)/Pietro Maximoff, Natasha Romanov (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s), Natasha Romanov/Steve Rogers, Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Pietro Maximoff/Original Female Character(s), Pietro Maximoff/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Little Fox [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1599628
Comments: 656
Kudos: 506





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! :D The next chapter will either be out tonight or sometime tomorrow (if I'm lucky)!

Prologue

Not much can be said about a junkyard. It was a trash heap, a place where people sent things they deemed worthless to rust, rot, and wither away amongst all other pieces of garbage. It was meant to be nothing more than such, but more it became. Children saw it as a treasure trove for the ultimate game of hide and seek. Teenagers and young adults saw it as the ultimate hangout spot where they can get away with all kinds of shit. Drinking, dealing, sex, running away from parents and life in general, paintball, the works. Adults mostly saw it for what it was, just a trash heap.

HYDRA, however, saw it as something more.

The junkyard in question was in the middle of the forest about a mile or so from a small New Jersey town. It was abandoned, desolate and disused after the town started expanding westward, leaving it to decay. Apart from an old farmhouse where an elderly couple formerly resided before passing on in their sleep, there was nothing but trees, bugs, and wildlife for miles.

Until HYDRA made its mark.

Down in the desolate area, passing by stacks of rusting cars and trash heaps, charged in a man who was not in the mood to be trifled with. A man who once possessed a handsome, charming quality that matched his outgoing, alluring personality. A man who was now the opposite of alluring and charming. A man with an X on his chest, a burned and misshapen face, and a terrifying thirst for vengeance all working together in harmony. 

A man who was called Crossbones.

Marching through the filth and muck of the yard, the sun just barely peeking over the tops of trees in the early morning light before inevitably covered by the thick set of clouds hovering in the sky, Crossbones grabbed hold of a forgotten crowbar and sent it flying into the nearest windshield, shattering the already broken glass upon impact. He was angry, incensed beyond comprehension. Positively boiling over the colossal fuck up that was the last mission. How could it have gone so wrong?!

The Avengers were handled, the tower was vulnerable, and Kilgrave was there for the taking. There is no possible reason why the mission failed as badly as it did, no explanation that could ease the rage threatening to overflow from the HYDRA agent. His two best teams filled with the best assassins, agents, and so much more were neutralized in a manner of seconds. 36 men either ashes or rotting somewhere cold and alone. 36 men Crossbones swore up and down to his superiors were enough to take out The Avengers, destroy their A.I., and find out what Kilgrave knows about Omega 13 and Insight.

And now he had to explain to those same superiors how and why his specially chosen men failed in their tasks even though he still hadn’t debriefed on the full situation just yet. He gritted his teeth, moving towards the hidden panel installed in the oldest stack of rusted cars. Crossbones was not a speechmaker, the last guy to be picked for motivational crap and rallying the troops. He’s the guy that gets shit done, rag on his opponent a little bit, and then move along.

The foot-tall metal door opened with a creaky popping sound and promptly fell to the earth floor. Crossbones rolled his eyes and kicked it aside, too frustrated to fix it now. He typed in 1941, listened for the bleep, and then turned around to face the retinal scanner that emerged from the snow-covered dirt. He leaned down slightly, opening his eyes as wide as his burned face would allow him too, and kept still as the blue light from the scanner swept across his eyes.

A loud, robotic sounded from the robot before speaking slowly in its monotone voice. “Welcome back, Mr. Rumlow. Please remain still as you descend.”

A loud crack, motors whirring away, and suddenly Brock Rumlow was lowered beneath the ground. Descending further and further until disappeared from the junkyard and emerged into the underground estate that held one of the three last remaining HYDRA headquarters. The other two were in deep in underground bunkers in the middle of farmland. One in Mother Russia, the other on the outskirts of London.

Insight was a specialized project made up of scientists that were tasked to find the ultimate second gender from all three identifications. Alpha, Beta, and Omega. Created by both HYDRA and SHIELD for mutual goals and hoping for the same results. Much of the project dealt with experimentation that commonly involved unwilling parties. Experimentation that tested the body, the mind, and the will of each subject that turned up on the surgical table. Modifications of the most horrendous sort performed on the subjects, leaving them deformed, maimed, dead, or some combination of the three. It also involved a far worse experimentation, one that would enrage even the most depraved individuals across the globe.

Forced second gender modifications.

If an Omega was brought in on the table, they would leave as a Beta or an Alpha. If an Alpha were brought it, they would leave as a Beta or an Omega. Same applies to the Beta. There is nothing wrong with changing genders when the subject was fully prepared and gave their full consent for such a risky procedure. It was wrong because the subjects were very unwilling and most certainly did not give their consent to the procedure, and because statistically the death toll of those who received the surgery was 83%. 83% dead within 24 hours of the surgery’s completion, 10% dead on the operating table, 5% death rate within the first week after the subjects rejected the transformation, and 2% success rate.

A measly 2%.

Of the two percent were 5 people. Three of them were dead due to malnutrition and abuse, one escaped shortly after his body was mostly healed, and one remained locked in his cage waiting to be freed by his “master”. The prisoner only survived because he was deemed useful by the scientists, and by Rumlow himself. The scientists saw him as way to dispose of those who they deemed were “unusable” or “unfit” for experimentation, forcing him to fight and kill them. Rumlow saw him as decent punching bag, both physically and verbally. Anytime he saw him, he’d either punch him down or assault him with his words. It all depended on Rumlow’s mood at the time.

Right now, he was in a rush, so when he passed by the poor prisoner’s cage, he merely kicked the bars and yelled, “Hey freak! Next time give me something better to look at!” and then ran off to where his superiors would be waiting.

The prisoner in the cage paid him no mind. A little over a year he’s been forced to call this cage home, and for as long as he could he’s tried to make it so. The walls were covered with all sorts of carvings and drawings. Old and faded tally marks at the start of the wall before morphing into beautiful drawings of trees, landscapes, and birds of all kinds filled the rest of his space. His bed was no more then a towel and couch cushion, yet he folded them with ease and placed flowers he plucked from the limbs of the cherry blossom tree that poked through the nearby grated window at the top of the room.

He’s a tall man, 20 years old in just a few short weeks. Emaciated and malnourished from his experimentation and neglect from his captors. Long black hair matted and clumpy, falling well past his shoulders onto scarred, pale skin. He wore no shirt, only a pair of sweats that were far too short for him. Ribs poking out, what little muscles he had anymore on full display along with the whip and bite marks left behind from his captors.

Currently the man spent his time staring out the gated window, watching the snow fall through the grating and float gently to the floor where his bed normally resides. His cage was extremely cold. The towel was wrapped tightly around him, the cushion at his back to protect his mauled skin from the freezing brick walls. There was a smile on his face, a jaunty tune on his breath as he hummed “Out There” from Hunchback of Notre Dame, drawing yet another picture in the dirt of his cage.

One day he would be free. One day he’ll see the sun again in its entirety, not from the shadows of his cage or the cold brick walls of this prison. One day he’ll see his friends again, the friends who escaped without him, friends he hoped were okay. One day they’ll return to free him from his cage, and when they do, he’ll hug them tight and never let them go.

One day. Until then, he’s content to watch the snow fall through the grating, and dream of spring.

Far away from the junkyard where Insight was based, across the river and landing on the island of Manhattan, The Avengers were on the move. Col. James Rhodes and the hobbled Clint Barton were waiting on the roof of the tower for the Quinjet to arrive. Wanda and Jarvis were waiting near the elevators to keep warm as they too waited for the Quinjet, the Omega concerned and confused over the situation while the Alpha calmed her with comforting assurances. The rest were momentarily still inside making their final preparations before gathering and leaving the tower as a group. Why?

The tower was no longer safe.

During the night, long after Peter and Violet went to sleep, The Avengers unwillingly gathered to briefly discuss the ramifications of the invasion and the intel James and Natasha learned. It was a quick meeting, no more than a few minutes before Tony boldly decided the best course of action was to leave the tower and regroup elsewhere until they knew more about the mysterious Omega 13 and Insight. Since Frank was unable to get back to them, and they were no closer to solving the mystery, they all agreed it was the best option. Not just for the Avengers, but for the new chosens as well.

It was something James and Natasha had planned for Violet long before this happened. Their temporary home was waiting for them in Sochi, Natasha’s summer home in Russia she visits from time to time when she feels nostalgic and needs to relax. James didn’t mind going there, but only during the summertime. The winter snows brought back too many memories from his captivity. In fact, the continuous blizzard here in New York would have dredged up those old memories too if it weren’t Violet. They had originally planned to take her there once she was healed from her gun shot wound and the storm passed, but after everything in the past few days, it just wasn’t feasible. Instead, James and Natasha decided would go with the Avengers and their chosens to the safe house that has been prepared and currently awaiting their arrival.

The destination being Oslo, Norway. The destination where Loki and Thor had rerouted too considering their sudden decision which made the Prince both pleased and put out considering it wasn’t far from his home. Where one Peter Quill and his team of misfits were currently residing thanks to a mishap in the airport because they boarded the wrong plane. The destination where Peter and Violet would soon awaken much to their dismay. Everyone prepared for the outburst Violet would inevitably have, all hands-on deck so to speak where Violet and her resourceful nature were concerned.

The two Omegas in question were still asleep after their taxing 48 hours. Their Alphas gathered their necessities and packed the essentials for themselves and their darlings. Far too often they were distracted by the movements the Omegas made in their sleep, entranced and enamored by the wonderful darlings. Tony in particular kept adjusting himself because his thoughts kept fluttering back to the previous night when he had Peter up against the wall, and that made for quite an unfortunate discomfort in his pants. James and Natasha wanted to crawl back into bed with their darling and cuddle with her until they died. Not even five minutes after she fell asleep when they were suddenly called away, and ever since they were on the move, collecting their shit and preparing to leave.

Natasha just finished carefully packing the red and black lace dress she bought Violet nearly two weeks ago when Violet started tossing in her sleep, mumbling in distress. For hours she was completely dead to the world, and suddenly she couldn’t lay still and whimpered in fear? The work of a nightmare.

Both Alphas immediately jumped to action, gingerly climbing the bed and clinging to her flinching body, holding her tight against their own. James placed Violet’s head in the crook of his neck, the place where his scent was the strongest. Natasha plastered herself against Violet’s back, moving the blue locks of her hair and pressing a firm kiss to the back of her neck.

“You’re okay,” James whispered, a comforting tone coloring his gentle voice, “you’re not alone. You’re safe and loved, protected and cared for. We’re not going anywhere; we’re staying right here at your side. Just breathe for me and dream good dreams. We’ll be here when you get back.”

Violet made adorable little noises, tired whimpers from her exhaustion and yet they were submissive all the same. Wrapping an arm around his neck, she settled in and relaxed within his hold. Natasha smiled at the two of them, running her fingers through those blue strands before looking into the crimson eyes of her lover.

“She can’t up wake on the plane; it’ll be too traumatizing for her.”

James nodded, “and no more drugs. I don’t want that to be our go to solution. She deserves better than that.”

“What do you suggest we do then?”

James frowned, staring at the dozing Omega in his arms. It felt so good to have her in his embrace, intoxicating to take in her scent at any time. He wanted to care for her, protect her from harm and hold her close when things got too scary. It saddened him to admit that there would be times where he himself was the scary thing he so desperately wanted to protect her from. The Soldier always seemed to be on the edge of his control, waiting with bated breath for the smallest inkling of the trigger words to set him free once more. James just hoped the day where the Soldier broke through his walls and reigned free would never come.

He thought about the best way to protect his chosen, listed through the options he had in front of him. Ultimately, he landed on something he didn’t like, but in his mind, it was far better than pumping her full of drugs. With a sigh, he bit his cheek and answered his lover.

“I’ll use my Alpha voice,” he responded forlornly, brushing away a rogue blue stand with his metal finger. “Keep her asleep until we’ve landed and properly situated.”

Natasha nodded in agreement, “should I mention the idea to Tony? Peter would be far easier to handle than our darling, but he could overhear something he shouldn’t if that were to happen.”

“Not a bad idea,” James gestured towards the door, “go ahead and give him a call. I’ll be done shortly.”

“May I watch?” Natasha asked coyly, smirking mischievously, “I love watching all the tension melt away in her face. It’s like an orgasm without all the important accoutrements to bring it about.”

James rolled his eyes but winked all the same.

“Okay, but only if you don’t interrupt. We’re just making sure she stays asleep until we’re settled in, not prepping her for sex.”

Natasha pouted, “party pooper.”

James gave her a look, “now’s not the time to play.”

“There’s always a time to play when one makes room for it,” Natasha wiggled her eyebrows, leaning in and giving James a brief, yet passionate kiss on the lips. “Go ahead, I’ll keep quiet until you’re done.”

“Thank you,” James whispered, returning her kiss before turning his attention to his darling.

He took a deep breath, focused and alert, then began speaking in his alpha tone, the deep timber reverberating around the room.

“ **Violet** ,” James started, pushing down the temptation to kiss her when her body flinched at the tone. “ **I want you to sleep and dream good dreams. Dreams that fill you with joy and allow you to smile as much as you want. Dreams that make you feel happy and refreshed. Do not wake up until me or Natasha tell you to do so. Go to sleep and dream happy dreams.** ”

Natasha was not left disappointed. Watching the tension and apprehension leave their unconscious chosen’s face was a dream come true. So much she was holding onto, so much work James and Natasha needed to put in until their Omega felt loved and cared for, until she trusted them and perhaps . . . perhaps loved them in return as well? Violet went dead in James arms, and after gathering their duffels from the broken table, James wrapped her in an Avengers themed blanket and carried her out of the room bridal style. Natasha followed with a lustful smirk.

Onto Oslo they go, completely unaware of what they had just unleashed in their Omega.

Meanwhile, back in Rochester, the X-Men made plans to invade the Avengers tower, oblivious to the fact that the Avengers were currently leaving said Tower and by extension the country. Wade sharpened his katanas while doodling pictures of himself fucking unicorns and organizing an airdrop for him and his team of hired mercs to enter the tower from the roof. Charles and Erik were busy catching up while figuratively and literally moving pieces across the chess board for their long overdue game, mulling over the pros and cons of the arranged plan. Summers led the charge, drilling the team in countless maneuvers in preparation for the upcoming conflict, focus only on doing the mission and seeing it through without causalities.

And Logan was at a local café in the main square of Rochester, five miles from the school. Drinking black coffee and pretending to read the morning newspaper, Logan kept a watchful eye on the snowy streets, searching for the angry, hulking figure he once knew so well. Waiting impatiently for Frank Castle to arrive.

For hours on end Logan reached out to Frank with no answer from the newly proclaimed “Punisher”. Logan’s heard about the moniker the media gave to his old friend, believing it to be well suited to Frank’s naturally aggressive and blunt nature. Logan himself was rechristened “Wolverine” by the scientists before the explosion killed them all. Named after their prickly dispositions, labels people felt the need to place on them.

Logan was finally able to get ahold of Frank just a few hours ago, sharing the briefest of conversations with the simplest questions. Is this important? Where are you at? When can I meet you? Even with the storm, it wouldn’t take Frank assured Logan in his brusque manner that it wouldn’t take him more than an hour to make it to Logan’s location.

As of three minutes ago, an hour was reached, and there was still no Frank Castle. Logan knew he would turn up, more than likely surveying the area or setting up shop elsewhere to put him in sights of his sniper rifle. It’s been years since either reached out to the other, either option made perfect sense to Logan. If Frank decided on the latter option, Logan would hold no enmity towards him.

Alas, after another few minutes of waiting and sipping his coffee, Frank finally arrived.

Calmly pushing open the door to the café, he gave a nod to the portly woman at the counter. Her name was Valerie, and she was too good for a place like this, her smile was kind and lit up the room. She took care of her customers and greeted Frank like an old friend as the glass closed behind him.

“Want some breakfast Hun?”

“Just a coffee, black.” Frank answered in his blunt tone while attempting to be polite.

“Coming right up,” Valerie smiled, and turned away to make his order.

Frank looked around the room until his eyes landed on Logan. The Lieutenant sighed at the sight of him, face tensing up while slowly making his way towards him. He had just taken his seat in front of Logan when Valerie marched over with his coffee and set it on the table in front of him, quickly thanking her before turning his attention to his former friend.

“Why are we here, Howlett?”

Logan didn’t say anything, just carefully reached into his pocket and set the stack of photos in front of Frank. Blowing into the steaming hot coffee, Frank quickly perused through the stack, freezing instantaneously the moment he recognized the subjects.

“These photos were brought to my attention by one Matthew Murdock and Detective Sam Wilson a few days ago.” Logan started, taking a sip from his mug before continuing, “it took me a minute to recognize who I was seeing, but eventually it became pretty fucking clear.” He pointed to the photos, “Brea’s alive, she’s going by a new name Violet Mason, she’s being held captive by the Avengers, The X-Men have been tasked with saving her and the boy, and neither Scott nor Xavier know that she’s his fucking kid. Which brings me to why we are here.”

“Which is why?” Frank responded bluntly, tension leaking off him in droves.

“They have to know the truth about her, they need to know Violet is his kid, and I need you there with me when I tell them.”

Frank growled, but not in anger. Frustratingly rubbing his head, Frank scrunched up his nose and leaned forward in his seat. “Well I have a problem with that.”

Logan’s brow furrowed in confusion, “why would you have a problem with that?”

“Because I’m currently helping the Avengers with an assignment, and I gave them my blessing to keep her as their chosen.”

Logan reared back, shocked beyond imagining at his words, staring at Frank like he didn’t recognize him. Frank stared back intensely, refusing to give an inch. Logan was the first one to look away. He lifted his half empty mug in the air, catching Valerie’s attention as she went around checking tables.

“Need a refill Hun?”

“Yes ma’am,” Logan responded shortly, “turns out we got a lot of catching up to do.”

“I’ll think I’ll take that breakfast now, if you don’t mind,” Frank spoke up, giving Valerie a subdued smile.

“Sure thing,” Valerie smiled as she topped off Logan’s coffee, completely missing the vile look that crossed his face as he took in the man that sat across from him.

This conversation was going to last a hell of a lot longer than he originally anticipated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh damn! The Punisher and Wolverine sitting across from one another and having a drink of coffee?! What next?! What do you think Bucky unleashed when he used his Alpha voice on Violet? Who is the mysterious prisoner at the Insight prison??? Please leave a comment and let me know what you think! :D 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I can't believe I got to this point and it's all because you guys! Thank you, thank you, thank you!! :D:D:D


	2. Where You Belong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something is unleashed and almost kills the Avengers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is weird. I mean it, it's fucking weird and I love it. I hope you guys like it too because it's going to bleed into the next chapter as well. I hope you guys like it and makes you laugh as much as I did writing it. I might go back through and fine tune it later, but right now I'm mostly satisfied with it. Please enjoy!
> 
> Oh and check out these two songs that helped inspire parts of the chapter!
> 
> "Runaway" by Aurora, and "The Dream"/"The Rabbit Hole" by In This Moment

Chapter 1

Where you Belong

_Quinjet_

_Violet_

Whoever said a pot of gold could be found at the end of a rainbow were liars and bad ones at that. Gold didn’t reside there, dragons did. Dragons of all sizes and appearances, breathing magical fire in a wonderful range of colors into the lavender clouds floating high above in the indigo sky. Sparks of gold shooting fast, leaving glittering trails amongst the indigo reminiscent of a Japanese watercolor painting. The dragons roared happily, wings flapping as they soared across the sapphire ocean and landed on the beach, spraying white sand everywhere as they impacted the surface.

Music filled the air. Piano keys pounding, guitar strings plucked, and ethereal voices enveloping the world. The dragons sang with them, creating a beautiful and unforgettable harmony.

A little red fox sat on the white sand watching it all. Tongue sticking out of her mouth, tail wagging in excitement, she watched the flames intermingle with one another and cooed at the beauty it created. Sky blue eyes stared in amazement and refused to blink for even a nanosecond because she was afraid to miss anything. The little red fox was so happy to play, to see something so beautiful and astounding that she couldn’t help but bounce around with joy.

The dragons flew around her, sounding off their protective roars as they protected the little red fox nestled in the white sand down below them. The fox was thirsty, hungry beyond imagining, but the beauty of their colors and how well they translated in the sky was far too good to miss. She sounded out her call, smiling wickedly as the dragons suddenly landed once more into the white sand, only this time landing close to her. She cooed at them in return, moving from her safe spot and prancing towards them.

She knew she shouldn’t be doing this, but what was the harm? The dragons only ever protected the fox, so why should the fox ever fear them? The nails from her dirty paws dug deep into the sand as she yipped in excitement, charging down the beautiful dragons until she was close enough to pounce. Which ended up being exactly what she did. She pounced on them, causing them to rumble in fear, but that didn’t stop the fox. If anything, it only encouraged her.

With a smile, the young little fox continued pouncing on the dragons, and the dragons had no idea what to do in return. Before long, instead of staying on the land where the fox jumped and yipped, they flapped their wings and flew back to sky, too afraid to hurt the tiny creature and opted to fly back into the indigo sky. The fox tried to follow them, thinking it to be a wonderful game they wanted to play, and ran too far from where she was supposed to be.

With a solid jump, her tongue flapping about in the wind, the little fox began hurtling off the white beach and into the glowing sapphire ocean down below. There was no fear in the fox’s heart, only joy and excitement. Time for another adventure! The fox wondered who she might meet this time just as she landed on something hard, cold, and nothing like the soft pillow of water she was expecting.

She grunted, quickly standing to her feet and brushing off her coat with her sandy paws when a shocked voice caught her attention.

“Violet?”

The fox looked up and stared in amazement. A phoenix! A real phoenix standing right in front of her?! How cool is that?!

The red feathers gleamed and glowed, an everlasting flame deep in the heart the magnificent creature, eyes burning yellow flames as it floated closer and closer to the astounded animal standing before her. The little red fox stared in awe, smile never dimming as her tongue continued to lazily hang from her mouth. The stunning creature glided the short distance until she was right in front of the little fox, the feathers from her its beautiful wings reaching out to pet her fur.

“Violet? Are you alright?”

The little fox cocked its head, confused as can be.

“I’m not Violet, I’m Brea.”

_Quinjet_

_James and Natasha_

Five hours. Five boring and unentertaining hours in the air before something worthwhile finally happened. Unfortunately for everyone involved, it was quite possibly the absolute worst wake up call in the history of wake-up calls. Ever.

The Avengers, plus Jarvis and Rhodey, sat in the communal area of the Quinjet discussing living arrangements and mission updates while Peter and Darcy slept soundly at the edge of the room. Wanda and Violet were given a separate area on the jet due to Violet’s ailments and exhaustion over the past week. Everyone agreed that she needed to be monitored, even after James used his Alpha tone on her to keep her sedated until further notice, hence why Wanda was with her. James and Natasha needed to focus their attention elsewhere for now, though more than anything they wanted to stay and cuddle with their darling. Tony went along with the idea of using his Alpha voice on his chosen as well to ensure he remained asleep and kept a firm hand on Peter’s soft leg at all times. Darcy lay forgotten in the far corner, Steve only checking on her once or twice to ensure she was still there and breathing. Otherwise, he paid attention to the task at hand. The Banners took a separate jet with Dr. Helen Cho and her team of nurses helping with Betty and the baby.

“Loki and Thor have made the appropriate preparations that meet our specifications,” Tony spoke offhandedly, caressing his chosen’s calf lovingly, “apart from the cold as fuck temperature, the weather shouldn’t be a problem when we land.”

“Why so glum?” Natasha smirked, examining her fingernails, “miffed we’re not going to Malibu?”

“I hate the snow and miss the sand, sue me,” Tony grumbled, “why did we decide on Oslo again?”

“We needed a safe place to lay low that wasn’t connected to us or any of our businesses, and since Loki and Thor were already on their way to us and his mansion fits the bill it only made sense to go to him, especially since it’s isolated and on the edge of a valley near the ocean. Harder to ambush us.” Clint answered while eating around his oatmeal.

Tony shrugged, “Fine, but we’re going someplace steaming hot and around the equator before heading back to New York. Understood? No more of this blizzard bullshit.”

“I concur,” James agreed softly, polishing his gun before setting it on the table.

Both Steve and Natasha smiled comfortingly at him, patting him in unison. No one understood James’ hatred of the winter and its cold more than they. Especially with how close their intended destination was to the place where he was . . . remade. Violet required all their attention for the time being, but both intended to keep an eye on James as well. Violet wasn’t the only one prone to nightmares and reverting to a different state of mind. Only James was far more dangerous and lethal.

Or so they would think.

They exchanged a few more minor gripes about their destination, all of them about the cold and the snow, when Wanda suddenly burst into the communal area, eyes wide and panting heavily.

“Edwin, I need your help. Now!”

Jarvis was sitting near the edge of the room, just a few feet away from Tony and Peter. He straightened up immediately, standing to his feet in the same breath.

“What is it, my dear?”

“It’s Violet, something’s gone terribly wrong.”

James and Natasha looked up at the Omega in surprise, fear and concern bleeding into their expressions. They too stood to their feet just as Jarvis pushed past Tony and the fellow Avengers.

“What do you mean? What’s wrong?” Jarvis asked just as a sharp, child-like giggling sound emanated throughout the jet, causing pure terror to cross the Omega’s face.

“Oh fuck,” Wanda cursed, turning away abruptly and racing towards her and Violet’s designated area of the Quinjet. Fear filled the Alphas as they followed her. Wanda has never to their memory ever cursed before, which meant whatever was happening was extremely bad. James and Natasha hoped that wasn't the case, but their hopes were not to be attained.

They turned the corners and ventured down the hallway until Wanda abruptly stopped, hands tangling in her scarlet hair while turning wildly to face the other direction. Mumbling nonsensically, babbling various pleas they couldn’t catch. Jarvis attempted to stop the Omega, his calming presence normally doing the trick, but Wanda roughly pushed passed him and started running.

“Wanda, what’s going on?” Natasha ordered, anger excellently covering the worry in her tone.

The giggling sounded off again, louder and more joyful than the first instance. It was coming from the other end of the Quinjet, over by the cockpit. Wanda’s lips quivered as she picked up speed, shouting “Don’t do it! Don’t you dare!”

Then the floor was taken out from under them, and the Alphas went flying.

One second they were running towards the cockpit where the giggles emanated from, the next they were flung into the ceiling as the jet went into a very sudden and very unexpected dive. Curses were shouted, yelps of surprise responded, bodies and objects went flying throughout the confined space, and the giggles turned into a loud continuous call of absolute joy. James and Natasha were plastered to the ceiling, finding it incredibly hard to move with the pressure from the dive. Wanda was in Jarvis arms just a few feet ahead of them in a very similar predicament. James dug his metal hand into the grooves of the ceiling, nodding to Natasha before forcing his body to climb towards the sounds of downright glee.

As he was doing this, Tony started yelling from the other room, “FRIDAY! What happened?!”

“Boss,” she shouted through the speaker next James’ ear, “Violet’s sleepwalking. She switched the controls over to manual and has complete control of the jet!”

“Well un switch it!” Tony shouted in the distance, “put it back in auto pilot!”

“I’m trying, boss. She keeps switching them back!”

“Then do something else! We’re falling to our deaths here!” Terrifying cackles sounded from the cockpit. “Hurry!”

The jet suddenly took a swiftly turn, sending everything and everyone hurtling around the empty space and slamming into the side of the aircraft. Everyone except for James who retained his strong hold on the ceiling thanks to his metal arm. Unfortunately, he had to deflect a numerous amount of incoming objects ranging from luggage to gun cases. Not a fun feat to do. Natasha was able to land on her feet and nimbly run towards the cockpit, but was stopped by Darcy’s unconscious body knocking her over and slamming into the harsh metal of the jet. Tony was holding onto the wall and shielding Peter’s body with his own against the bolted down cot he was sleeping on.

Steve and Clint were holding onto the steel table for dear life, helping one another to deflect the debris before it crushed them. Rhodey held onto a stray piece of cable connected to a wall for dear life, closing his eyes and hoping to God he wouldn’t die like this. Everything was absolutely chaotic with no end in sight. Whoops of joy and mischievous laughter accompanied the buzzing alarms and emergency protocols blaring throughout the falling plane. Then the worst happened.

They hit something, or more accurately they bounced on something.

Bounce, bounce, bounce went the jet, screams and cries escalated to astronomical levels. Everyone held on for dear life, apart from Darcy who was flopping about completely gone to the world with Natasha gripping her ankle from the corner of the jet. James continued to force his way to the cockpit. Tony held Peter close and protected him from harm. Wanda and Jarvis tucked themselves away from the flying projectiles. Steve and Clint inched towards Rhodey, intent on helping him before he became a flying projectile himself.

Amid the mayhem, James and Natasha’s thoughts instinctually shot to their chosen. Where was she throughout the madness? Why hadn’t they seen her flying about like nearly everyone else? They looked at one another, recognition crossing their expressions. No way. There was no possible way she could do this. The Alpha tone forbade her from doing so. She should be asleep and nothing more.

Suddenly the roaring sound of the thrusters went into overdrive, sending the bodies hurtling in every direction until they finally leveled out. For a solid solitary second, no one moved. No one breathed, no blinked, no one did a thing. Then everyone, except James, fell back to the floor with thuds and grunts and various forms of complaints. James hung from the ceiling, surveying the pandemonium before releasing his hold and landing softly to his feet.

Clint was groaning in pain on the ground and complaining loudly about spilled oatmeal. Steve sat next to him while checking on Rhodey, who simply gave him a thumbs up from his downed position. Tony looked up from his protective position over his darling with wild eyes. Natasha released Darcy’s ankle and left her unattended on the floor, eyes scanning the area until they found their intended target. James.

She walked towards him and pulled him into a hug, whispering in his ear, “where is she?”

“I think you already know,” he responded, tone defeated and forlorn.

Wanda and Jarvis suddenly emerged from their hiding spot, firmly stuck in one another’s embrace. Eyes closed so they could enjoy it. Tony put an end to that fast.

“What the fuck was that?!” He whispered intensely, glaring at every object and living soul his gaze landed on.

Wanda’s eyes popped open. In any other situation it might have been funny, but not now. Certainly not now. She jumped away from Jarvis and resumed her previous pursuit towards the cockpit with surprising speed.

Seconds later there was a squeal of surprise, calling everyone’s attention who wasn’t previously watching Wanda, to the pilot’s chair.

“Hey! Not fair!” Sounded from the area from a high-pitched voice that no one was expecting to hear. A voice that sounded nothing like Violet’s. Her voice was the pinnacle of sarcasm with hints of brash tones, then again it could be a front she puts up when she’s squaring off against the Avengers. This voice belonged to a child. The grating type of voice that was adorable but only in small doses thanks to its harsh pitch.

James and Natasha glanced at each other once more, weary confusion coloring their tense expressions. The sounds of a struggle began. Wanda could be seen wrestling with the struggling figure and losing immensely. The giggles from before started up again, and the Alphas knew they needed to act.

Now.

They started forward, Steve quickly joining them from his perch on the floor, and then abruptly stopped at the sight before their eyes. Wanda was suddenly thrown backwards to the floor, Jarvis surging forward just in time to catch her. Then the pilot’s chair turned to face them. All of them were dumbstruck. Completely at a loss for words at what waited before them.

Violet was sprawled in that chair like a cat lazing about on calm, summer day. Stretching out her body, revealing its wonderful curves through the clothes she slept in the night before. Right foot swinging back and forth above the floor, left foot resting on the arm rest, and her head hung back over the other arm rest, leaving her neck completely exposed and vulnerable to anyone. A warm, happy smile was on her face, teeth biting into those red lips in a coy manner, eyes closed as she basked in whatever she was feeling in that wonderful moment.

“It’s going to take a lot more than that to get me out of this chair,” she giggled, her hands moving up her exposed midriff to grab her breasts, squeezing them slightly before she giggled once more and through her hands in the air, stretching out her back as a result. “I’m way too comfy to move now.”

Wanda huffed, shooting up from her spot on the floor, “Violet-” she started in a stern voice before she was cut off.

“I already told you, I’m not Violet. I’m Brea.”

Apart from Wanda, everyone on the plane did a doubletake. “What the fuck?” Tony repeated in a shocked, subdued tone. Clint and Rhodey cocked their heads in confusion. Steve took a step back, appraising the situation. James’ eyes widened while Natasha took a minor step forward, but he shot his hand out to stop her. Grasping her arm and pulling her in, “let’s see where this goes.”

She had just nodded when Wanda responded with a stressed expression, “Brea-”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” Violet giggled, lifting her hips and wiggling her ass slightly before shoving it back into the chair, laughing hysterically while completely unaware of what those movements were doing to the Alphas staring intensely at her.

Wanda exhaled sharply, “where is Violet?”

Violet brought a finger to her lips, speaking in a soft voice, “Shh, she’s sleeping.”

“What do you mean she’s sleeping?” Wanda spoke through clenched teeth.

Violet’s brow furrowed, cocking her head slightly, “like . . . sleeping.” She slapped her hands together, placed them under her left cheek and pretending to snore for approximately 3 seconds before straightening up and repeating, “she’s sleeping, now shush and go away.” She made the shooing gesture with her hands before returning to her stretching pose on the chair, smiling contentedly.

That was Wanda’s last straw.

The furious Omega surged forward to grab the relaxed one from the chair, all sorts of angry words held back as she grabbed Violet’s foot. In that second, Violet’s eyes finally opened and reacted with a speed no one knew she possessed. She grabbed hold of Wanda’s arm, shot up from the chair, and forced it up into the air before Wanda could react. With the force of Violet’s surprising maneuver, Wanda was sent hurtling forward without falling. A popping sound could be heard throughout the room, fallowed by a scream of pain. Violet held her there, staring down at her friend with no expression. No malice or glee, just nothing.

“It’s not nice to touch people without their permission,” the high-pitched spoke clearly, definitively. “Do it again, and I’ll break your arm. Deal?”

“Deal,” Wanda wheezed out, whimpering from the pain.

“Awesome!” Violet giggled, releasing Wanda from the death grip she had on her arm, “now I don’t have to tell Violet. You know how she gets with people touching her,” the omega shivered in disgust, “shivers and panic and blegh, all sorts of sad feelings that make the world go dark. It’s terrible, and I don’t want her feeling terrible. I want her happy and skipping and having fun with friends and . . . you know,” she giggled once more, lifting her fingers to mimic air quotations, “ _special friends_ if you know what I mean.”

She jumped in place, turning wildly and laughing with joy as she stared up at the ceiling. James and Natasha were absolutely dumbfounded, Steve even more so as his jaw physically dropped at the sight of the badass Omega acting like a child right in front of him. Clint and Rhodey haven’t changed expressions, Tony moved from his protective position over Peter to stand next the dumbfounded Steve.

“What the ever-loving fuck is going on?!” He whispered to James, who merely shrugged in response.

What the Fuck indeed.

Natasha looked to James, and he let her go with a nod. Something was clearly wrong here. Violet certainly had her violent tendencies, but never towards her friends. She would never willfully flaunt her body the way she was doing so only moments prior, even if her life depended on it. Most importantly, aside from the nightmare from a few nights ago, Violet would never talk in such a way. Ever. In fact, the most the alphas have ever heard her talk was when she was giving them hell over one thing or another.

 _I’m not Violet. I’m Brea._ The words ran through James’ mind, and things started to fall into place. Only in the aftermath of Violet’s nightmare did he get the chance to meet Brea, and in those moments, she was only seeking comfort and love. This though, this Brea was a different animal entirely, and Natasha was determined to set out and meet it.

Violet was turning wildly in a circle, laughing that joyous laughter, while Wanda was gently helped away by an extremely concerned Jarvis. Natasha walked past the pair, careful to make as little noise as she could, before walking up right behind the Omega.

“Speaking of Violet’s special friends,” Natasha started, causing their chosen to flinch and turn to face her, “I’m one of them. Care to let me prove it?”

James watched the interaction carefully and was stunned when he finally caught Violet’s eyes. The starry eyes with the indigo background and gold lights were gone. In their place was a vibrant Magenta, and it shocked James to his core. This truly wasn’t Violet, this was Brea. But who was Brea exactly? He surmised that she had to be a version of Violet as a child based solely on the childlike demeanor she displayed and the use of her former name, but it didn’t answer of why she was here. Why was she here?

 _Violet’s sleeping,_ raced through his mind, and suddenly it made sense. He used his Alpha voice to keep Violet asleep, but he didn’t do so with Brea. Now she was alive and awake while Violet was lost to the world in dreamland.

When Brea landed her eyes on Natasha, those Magenta eyes went wide with delight. Her big smile growing impossibly bigger as she bounced in place. Squealing in delight as she surged closer, stopping just short of reaching out and touching Natasha.

“Holy crap, I’ve never seen a leopard before! This is awesome!” She turned towards Wanda, “hey Phoenix! You didn’t tell me there was a leopard here!”

. . . leopard? Phoenix? Did she really just say that? Thank God for their training, it took every ounce of it to not react to the strangeness of their darling’s words.

Natasha gently smiled, “sweetie-”

“I’m not a sweetie, I’m a fox.” Brea boldly interrupted, giggling at Natasha before asking, “Can I pet you? Wait, hold on. Rewind that a bit.” She took a step back, gesturing the rewind signal with her fingers, then smiling at Natasha once more, “may I pet you?”

“What?” Tony whispered next to James, “did I crack my skull or something?”

“If you did then we all did,” Clint responded from the floor nearby, watching with the utmost fascination. “It’s like that night Nat tricked us into doing acid all over again.”

“Don’t remind me, I still have nightmares from that shit.” Tony grated, his eyes not once leaving the scene in front of him. “And this is not helping that.”

Natasha took Brea’s request in stride, taking a step forward and smirking, “You may, but only if I get a kiss in return.”

This moment alone proved once and for all to every person on the jet that this was indeed not Violet. Violet, their wonderful darling and passionate chosen, would have smacked the bitch out of Natasha for even thinking of that. However, Brea was definitely proving to be nothing like Violet.

Brea simply shrugged, grabbed Natasha’s face, and pulled her in for what had to be the most shocking and most passionate kiss James had ever witnessed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brea is here and shit is going to go down! What do you think is going to happen on the jet? What do you want to happen? Why do you think Brea exists at all? Please leave a comment and let me know :D You guys are amazing! Thank you so much for sticking with the story!


	3. Dog Days Are Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers deal with Brea, Logan and Frank clear things up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness! I'm terrible yet trying my best. Hopefully you guys like this chapter! I'm super excited for you guys to read it! Thank you so much, all of you are amazing!
> 
> "Dog Days Are Over," by Florence and the Machine helped inspire the chapter. I was wondering what Violet could be up too while everything was playing out and this song came to mind and then everything just snowballed.

Chapter 2

Dog Days Are Over

_Quinjet_

_James and Natasha_

Natasha didn’t think she would do it and wasn’t entirely prepared for the sudden action but reciprocate she did. The moment those lovely lips touched her own a fire spurred to life in her chest that could not be quenched by any mundane thing. Not water, not fabric, not the best ammo provided for her guns. Not even James. Only Violet, only her chosen and the lovely spot between her legs. Only the sweet scent of her skin and the fiery defiance in those eyes.

And this wasn’t her.

The magenta eyes did not hold the same effect on Natasha as the starry eyes that signified her Violet. This person in her embrace, this cruel amalgamation, didn’t hold a candle to her wonderful darling. Violet had her edges, unafraid to strike back when the time called for it, but she also had restraint and thought through her actions when she could. This though, this thing she was kissing, had no restraint. It didn’t think, didn’t ponder, it just did what it pleased.

And it was using her darling to do so, a tragic mistake on its part.

It was almost impossible for Natasha to not compare “Brea”, though it killed her to even think of her Violet’s former moniker with this brutal being in front of her, to the Winter Soldier. One was a tragic figure while the other was an utter mystery filled glee and emptiness. A mystery Natasha planned to unravel. The Soldier was an extension of James, one that should never have existed, that resided in the darkest parts of his mind. This “Brea” was likely the same, which begged the question of how she came about in the first place. What put this apathetic creation in her chosen’s mind? What villainy created it and hurt her Violet so?

Her Alphas intended to find out.

Natasha pulled back, rubbing Violet’s shoulders with ease as she gently began guiding the imposter backwards. Brea bit her lip, giggling and blushing coyly while those magenta eyes traced the curves of Natasha’s body. If those eyes were showing Violet’s golden stars right now, Natasha would have orgasmed twice and prepared for her third. Alas, they weren’t her eyes, or James’ erotic crimson, so she felt nothing but disdain.

“You’re really soft,” Brea giggled, calloused hands running up and down Natasha’s jacket, “and you smell nice too.”

Natasha made a noise of agreement, but otherwise gave no response. Brea’s compliment brought up another worrying aspect of her presence. Violet’s mouthwatering scent no longer filled the room with its sweetness or clouded her Alpha’s senses until they were barely a step above mindless puppets with her as their puppeteer. It was muted, watered down like a fire that’s been abruptly put out.

A shell of her darling bouncing up and down in front of the Alpha.

Natasha had just got the imposter to the spot she wanted her when it whispered, “I wonder how you taste,” then suddenly shot forward and bit into Natasha’s bottom lip.

Taken by surprise, Natasha had no time to react. Now, with the imposter’s teeth latched in, there was little the Alpha could do without losing her lip and permanently disfiguring her face or hurting her darling as a result. Still, she tried pushing the Omega off her, searching for the weak spots she’s been able to uncover for the past week. Fingers prodding those sensitive areas while attempting to not give the imposter incentive to rip her lip off. It wasn’t working. Brea only laughed and bit down harder. Groaning and grunting, Natasha tried pushing it off her, but to no avail. The imposter’s hold was too strong.

James chose that moment to step in.

Grabbing her by the arm, James stepped in behind Violet. Reaching around, he grabbed her nose and squeezed the nostrils shut, cutting off her airway. The imposter reared back in shock, releasing Natasha and whimpering in complaint. Blood stained the edges of her teeth, Natasha tasted it on her tongue, feeling the wet and aching grooves in her flesh with the tip of it. She brought a hand to her mouth to rub away the wetness and was unsurprised to see it coated with red when she pulled it away.

The imposter giggled, nasally and disgustingly as she back into James.

“You’re a pretty wolf, will you let me pet you too?”

James stepped out of the way, allowing the imposter to fall backwards into the pilot’s chair she so recently vacated. The Alphas glanced at one another. One in suppressed pain, the other angry, both determined to end this madness before it could continue any longer.

The imposter had just barely landed when James raced behind the chair and wrapped his arms tight around her torso, trapping her arms in the process. That sickening laugh filled the air when Natasha turned away to search for her luggage and Steve took her place.

“Oh my God! A puppy! How adorable!” She bounced in the chair, those Magenta eyes staring wildly at Steve. “Such a shame dogs taste like spit or else I would just eat you up! Golden Retrievers are the best!” Her eyes shifted to Clint and Rhodey who were both staring dumbfoundedly at her. “Ooh! A hawk and a stag, a delectable combination,” she licked her lips and winked at the pair before turning her attention to Darcy on the floor. “Wow, a betta fish. That’s rare.”

Finally, her gaze landed on Tony, and she did not disappoint.

Laughing hysterically to the point where she leaned back in the chair and exposed her neck form laughing so hard, she forced out, “Holy shit, you’re a flying squirrel. You’re that squirrel from Ice Age, but with wings!”

The imposter kept laughing and laughing at that, drawing more and more wearily confused looks. Tony, however, was suddenly filled with ire and had enough. Taking two steps forward, he pointed directly at James and growled, “fix her, now!”

“What do you think we’re trying to do?” Steve cut in angrily, teeth clenched as he watched the Omega writhe in the chair and lick blood off her teeth like it was the most delicious meal in the world.

“You’re standing around while she’s nearly biting people’s lips off and eating them!” Tony shouted, staring at the Captain incredulously while Brea continued her laughing streak, “oh shut it, Hannibal Lector!”

“You’re cute when you’re angry,” Brea managed to say in between her giggles, “and besides, why are you freaked out by a little blood?”

Tony gritted his teeth, “I am not freaked out by blood. I’m freaked out that Violet’s gone and you’re here trying to kill us all!”

“I’m not trying to kill all of us.” Brea cocked her head slightly, “if I was then I would be killing Violet, and I would never do that.”

“Small mercies,” Tony grumbled. “Doesn’t change the fact that you almost killed all of us.”

“And how many times have you almost killed Violet?” Brea smiled back, those Magenta eyes appraising Tony’s tense form.

Everyone in the room leaned back slightly, shocked at the bold statement. “We’ve never tried to kill her,” Steve spoke softly, staring imploringly at the shell of the Omega trapped in the pilot’s chair.

“And we never will,” James growled, glaring at nothing in particular as he pondered what she could mean.

Brea snorted, rolling her eyes at their pleas. “Tell that to her nightmares, the place where that Stephen King guy goes to rest and relax with an acid drink in one hand, and a book in the other with blood splattered on the pages. A real vacation spot.”

Steve stepped forward. “Have you seen her nightmares?”

Brea pursed her lips, watching Steve’s advancement with a look of pity. “Oh look, the puppy’s sad. Do you want a hug puppy?”

“What does she dream about? What scared her so much the other night?” Steve pressed, ignoring Brea’s jabs.

Brea rolled her eyes, shrugging her shoulders, “I don’t know. I just see flashes. Big animals with dark eyes and a terrible smell.” She shivered in disgust, “kind of like how it smells in here. Just dark, musky, and burning. Gross.” She tilted her head back to look at James. “Except for you and the leopard lady, you two smell nice.” She grinned before looking back at Steve, sniffing the air and cooing as a result. “You don’t smell bad either. Like theme park food on opening day. Funnel cakes with sugar on top and chocolate dipping sauce, corndogs, and the ocean nearby with the sun shining bright. Coney Island, right?”

“Yeah,” Steve whispered, “Buck and I went there as kids.”

“Sounds like fun,” Brea grinned.

James appraised Steve warily, measuring his brother’s reaction to Brea’s response. He knew what he was feeling. Shock, confusion, delight. No one has ever guessed Steve’s scent with such accuracy before. The sun and the ocean were the strongest components, the parts everyone was able to guess, but the rest were muddled together and figuratively lost in the waves. Whiffs of vanilla and a warm baking smell emerged from the waves, but rarely were they strong enough to stand out amongst the more obvious aspects. James was the only other person to truly know depths in which Steve’s scent went and could accurately say that Brea got it absolutely right.

He didn’t know how to feel about that.

Awestruck, Steve shook himself, continuing his line of questioning. “In the dreams Violet has, who scared her so much?”

Brea shrugged again, “I don’t know. Why do you keep asking me that?”

“Because we want to help her.”

“Hey! That’s my job! Back off!” Brea shot back, attempting to kick Steve as he moved closer.

“Not anymore,” James growled from behind her.

“You have been officially fired by order of the Avengers,” Tony spoke up, brown eyes switching between staring incredulously at the Alphas, and glowering at Brea. “Now tell us what you know.”

Brea laughed, “I know Violet’s going to kick your beady little eyes out of your tiny squirrel skull, and it’s going to be hilarious.”

“Goddammit, where’s Romanoff?!” Tony shouted, incensed and frustrated beyond belief.

“She’s checking out her lip, she’ll be right back.” Clint spoke up, gingerly standing to his feet with Rhodey’s help.

“Well she needs to hurry up and tag team this thing before it gets even more out of hand.”

“You’re just mad because she thinks you’re a flying squirrel,” Clint retorted while carefully peeling off his oatmeal emblazoned shirt.

Tony scoffed, “I’m mad that she almost killed all of us! I refuse to die because of some damaged girl’s alternate personality taking me and my team for a joy ride to hell!”

“Talk about my chosen like that again, I’ll rip your fucking brain out of your skull and feed it to you.” James Alpha gaze blazed as he glared at Tony.

“Ala Dr. Lector,” Natasha’s smooth voice cut in from behind him, “how fitting.”

Tony whirled around to face Natasha, eyes wild, hand reaching wipe the nervous sweat from his brow. “Romanoff, you okay?”

“Apologize,” Natasha stated, her Alpha gaze alight as well. She wore no expression and made no movement. Her lip was still bleeding, but it wasn’t as bad as originally expected. Tony backed down, raising his hands in surrender.

“I apologize for speaking callously of your chosen.” He addressed Natasha first, then turned and addressed James. “I’m sorry for referring to her in such a cruel way.” He turned his gaze to the imposter and glared profusely. “I will not however apologize to this thing because this isn’t Violet as everyone on this damn jet is aware of.”

“Hooray, you have eyes. Congratulations for not being blind!” The imposter gave him a golf clap, giggling still.

Tony froze, his brain fighting to catch up with his excessive reactions. He turned back to Natasha. “Please bring her back now. I don’t care if she wakes up and goes ballistic and makes us feel like the guy that killed Bambi’s mom. I’d rather deal with Violet putting us in our place then that thing putting us in our graves!”

“And you’ll apologize when we do?”

“Of course,” Tony agreed implicitly, “now please bring her back!”

Natasha looked past Tony and turned her attention to the imposter. James had a good hold on her, making it impossible for her to escape his grasp. It grinned at the Alpha, opening her legs, pushing out her chest, and reaching out her hands as much as it could.

“You keep your hands to yourself, and I’ll keep mine here,” Violet placed her hands on her hips, winking seductively before succumbing to another tirade of giggles.

It was time for “Brea” to go, but there was something Natasha needed to ask first.

“Were you there the other night?” Natasha started, moving slowly towards the imposter and her lover keeping it at bay, “the night Violet woke up screaming and found comfort in her father’s arms?”

“He’s my dad too,” Brea responded childishly, “and yeah I was. Why are you asking?”

“What did she see, what happened in the dream?”

Brea shrugged, “same old same old. Running with a group of red gazelles, hiding next a cat that smelled bad and covered in flies, pulled out of a car by hyenas, and getting tied up before Dad comes in and scares them all away.”

“And there’s nothing you can tell me? Nothing else about the nightmare?”

Brea paused, no longer giggling as she pondered the question.

“There was no light in their eyes. Just black holes with toothy smiles.”

Natasha sighed, leaning in close to stare into the Magenta eyes.

“If you’re a fox, and the rest are animals too, what does that make Violet? Is she a fox too?”

For the first time, Brea’s lips curved into a warm and loving smile. Not a taunting smile or a vindictive one. Not one filled with pity or faux concern. A real smile. Her crinkled with real happiness, warm pools of the love she had for her darling.

“If she were a fox, she wouldn’t be like me. I’m a red fox, one you see everywhere. Violet though, if she were one, she’d be a rare one. The type with white and black fur with those big blue eyes that are really hard to find.”

“What is she then?” Natasha pressed gently, the desire to know outweighing everything else.

“She’s the whole world,” Brea whispered, biting her bottom lip while closing her eyes, “a living Goddess that protects and cares.”

A heavy weight suddenly appeared in Natasha’s chest as she came to recognize what the imposter was saying. “She’s the stars in the sky.”

Brea nodded, “not just that. She’s the stars and the sky all wrapped up in one. The best person ever, and I get to be with her all the time.”

Natasha and James glanced at one another, shocked and elated at the realization. Their wonderful Omega was truly more than what she seemed. So much pain she’s been through, so much trauma she’s endured, and yet hope remained. Beauty remained in every facet of her soul, even in the darkest recesses where this thing resided. The only conciliation the Alphas had was that this thing seemed to care for their darling, and that was enough to pacify them.

For now.

Together they leaned in, Natasha leaning towards her left while James to their darling’s right side, taking residence near each ear. Their noses touched her skin, ignoring the giggles she released as the friction tickled her. Natasha placed her hands on the imposter, one over her heart while the other tangled in her hair. Then they spoke to her, Alpha tones raging and synchronizing in a frightening melody.

“ **Violet** ,” they spoke in tandem, smiling in relief as they saw the imposter flinch in fear, “ **wake up. Come back to us. Return to your Alphas.** ”

It took a solid minute. The imposter fought to maintain control, struggling profusely beneath the Alpha’s hold, but there was nothing that could be done. They weren’t going to allow Brea to remain any longer. They knew of the backlash that would occur with Violet waking up, but it was necessary. Brea was far too dangerous and unpredictable. Violet was too, but not to such a chaotic extent. Where Violet was resourceful and steady, Brea was loud and fast. Natasha knew which pairing she preferred, as did James. It wouldn’t be much longer now.

Everyone stepped up close. Tony and Steve stood directly behind Natasha, watching the scene occurring before them with careful contemplation. Clint and Rhodey stepped up next to them, Clint pulling on a new shirt that was given to him by Jarvis, who rounded the corner with an extremely concerned Wanda. They held one another, refusing to take their eyes off the Omega who needed their help more than anything. Even FRIDAY took careful notes and calculated the best avenues in which to help Violet with potential recovery processes.

The only ones who didn’t move were the two Omegas that were still out for the count. Darcy sprawled out sloppily on the floor, and Peter still tucked into his cot with love and care. Neither had woken up or were even aware of their surroundings, and luckily would not be until their Alphas deemed it so. Not everyone was as complicated and slippery as Violet, and Tony was extremely thankful for that.

Steve, not so much.

He wanted the same as Buck and Natasha. Not a submissive piece of ass who was good for a fuck and then discarded. He wanted a challenge, someone to stand tall against him and put him in his place. Someone who was earned, not bought. Someone who saw through the mask he wore every day and was unafraid to delve deep into his soul.

He wanted an equal, and in his brother’s chosen he found one.

There were a few more whimpers, meager struggles emanating from Violet arms, and then she was still. With bated breath, everyone waited for the pin to drop. Silence, ringing in their ears. Her face tensed up, eyes squeezing shut before opening slightly, blinking away the sudden onslaught of light.

To the majority in the room, the moment they saw her open her eyes they sighed in relief. Relief because her eyes were confused and fearful, while with Brea they seemed empty and dead. Emotion meant Violet was back, and Tony felt the urge to whoop for joy. Natasha didn’t just see the fear and confusion though, she saw what she’s been dying to see since she and James put her back to sleep hours ago.

Gold stars in the indigo sky. Violet was back, and that was all that mattered.

“Where the fuck am I?” Violet’s body tensed up immediately, those starry eyes searching her surroundings in quick succession, “where’s Peter?”

Natasha couldn’t help it. So relieved she was at the sight of her darling awake and okay, Natasha grabbed Violet’s face and kissed her dead on the lips, slipping her tongue inside and tasting her darling thoroughly. If Violet wanted to bite her tongue off, then Natasha was more than happy to oblige. Violet could do anything and everything she wanted to Natasha and her body. Just as she could do so with James. She was their Omega, and they were her Alphas.

Finally, for this one moment, everything was right again.

_Rochester_

_Diner_

Valerie deserved far better than this.

In what used to be Pete’s diner was nothing more than a post-apocalyptic bomb site with the war the two soldiers waged on one another. Claw marks and bullet holes embedded in the walls, tables smashed to bits, blood and debris scattered all along the floor. Two customers lay lifeless not far from where they were sitting, eyes open and staring into the void their soul escaped in. Of those bodies was poor Valerie, who couldn’t get out in time to save herself in favor of saving someone else. She was a good woman who worked hard to make something of herself.

Logan stared at her from the bar stool, smoking his cigar as Frank tended to the wound in his left side. The Lieutenant got Logan good, almost impaling him the broken bat the cook attempted to use on them when they started fighting. They waited until Frank’s breakfast settled and most of the customers vacated the premises, but Logan couldn’t wait any longer when he made the first shot. It was a miracle more people didn’t die, even more so that police were never notified.

Frank was in bad shape too, but Logan already tended to him. His claws didn’t puncture any major organs, so patching him up was fairly easy. Even in his rage he was careful and precise about his placement. He didn’t want to kill Frank, only knock sense into the stubborn bastard. On this one front, both Frank and Logan wanted the same thing. Beat the fuck out of each other until they felt better. Now they were at the bar drinking whiskey Logan found in the back and finishing stitching up each other’s wounds.

Logan exhaled the smoke from his lungs, clicking his tongue and scratching his nose, before turning his head to look at Frank.

“Let me get this straight,” Logan started, taking a drink of whiskey before continuing, “Brea started going by Violet the night Billy was murdered by The Avengers, which she saw the entirety of and narrowly escaped, and has been one step above homeless ever since because she saw you and Karen getting it on while you were going through your rut?”

Frank nodded, “she stayed with me for about a year and half, maybe two years until that night, then she bounced and refused to come back.”

“And she’s been friends with this Peter guy before that?”

“They met a few months after Billy was murdered and have been practically inseparable since.”

“Okay,” Logan took a drag from his cigar, “and she’s been running this Omega Protection Agency for how long, exactly?”

“Three Summers ago. She started it up with Sam Wilson, who you already met, and Pietro Maximoff. He’s a paramedic for the city and the twin brother of Wanda Maximoff, who wouldn’t have survived if Violet hadn’t stepped in and saved her ass from Baron Strucker. Elitist prick and piss poor Alpha. All the horror stories Beta and Omega parents tell their children about at night when it comes to Alpha cruelty all came true with Wanda, and Violet’s the only reason she’s able to smile. That stupid, reckless kid gave her hope when no one else could.”

“I’m going to assume Matt Murdock, attorney at law, played a part in this Agency as well?”

“Yeah, his law firm took their cases and defended the Omegas against their abusers.”

“And the Avengers have been hunting her down for the past five years not to kill her, but to claim her as their chosen?”

“Buck and Romanoff caught her scent the night of Billy’s murder, and that was it for them. They chose her that night, and their decision has only gotten stronger since they’ve met her.”

“And you gave them your blessing as her acting parent for the past five years even though you’re fully aware they murdered one of your closest friends?”

Frank shrugged, finishing up the last stitch in Logan’s side. “I told him to not mess with them. I warned him of the consequences should he do something stupid and pull one his schemes. He didn’t listen and told me to fuck off. He stole from them and caused one of their Chosen’s to have a miscarriage. There was no saving him at that point, and I wasn’t stupid enough to get involved other than protecting my kid. He dug his own grave, and it was time to meet his end.”

Logan took another drag, “I’m with you there.” He exhaled, shaking his head, “she’s nothing like Scott.”

Frank grunted, lips quirking in amusement, “you’re damn right. I remember Scott used to joke about how he basically brought another version of his sister into the world. It’s the only way he could explain her recklessness and lack of impulse control. That moral compass though, the need to do what’s right now matter how hard and impossible it seems, no one knows where she got that from.”

“Maybe she just picked it up and ran with it through all of Scott’s lectures and shit?” Logan offered.

“Nah,” Frank shook his head, “too ingrained. She got it from someone, and I doubt I’ll ever find out who.”

“Maybe we’re not supposed to know?”

“Maybe,” Frank mumbled, tying up the last stitch in Logan’s side and grabbing the bandages from the counter. “Scott still doesn’t remember anything?”

“Not that I know of,” Logan responded tersely, grabbing the whiskey bottle and pouring more of it into his glass. “but he needs to soon. Kid’s been through too much. Seeing Scott alive with no memory of her might just be the straw that breaks the camel’s back.”

Frank nodded, finishing up his patch job, “and you’re sure they’re going to go after her and Peter? Go up against the Avengers and take them away?”

“That’s the plan, both The Professor and his Alpha are teaming up to do this.”

“Who’s his Alpha again?”

“Erik Lehnsherr, the outspoken leader of the Brotherhood.” Logan set down the bottle and took a nice long drink of the whiskey. The taste soothing his need to keep destroying shit. “What are you doing for the Avengers anyway? Thought you didn’t work for anybody anymore?”

“I owe them a debt; I’m doing this as a favor.” Frank glowered at Logan before placing his dressings on his side. “I’m searching for intel on an Omega 13. Apparently, they’re connected to HYDRA or some shit like that.”

“Really? Omega 13?” Logan cut in, staring at Frank incredulously. “The Avengers haven’t caught wind of that yet?”

Frank blinked. “Have you?”

“Yeah, it happened mid-July last year. Mercs from all across the country were contracted to find the escapee and bring him or her back alive. None of us knew what it was about, but we knew it was pretty fucking important if they wanted them alive instead of dead. In most corporations’ eyes Omegas are generally worthless, especially to HYDRA-”

“Unless the Omega knew something they didn’t want to get out, but wouldn’t it be easier to have them killed instead?”

“From what I heard, it wasn’t your ordinary run of the mill info or they saw something they shouldn’t have type of shit. They stole something when they got out that night. Something worth alerting everyone in the country and nearly exposing the entire system just to get back.”

“And this Omega 13 knows where it is,” Frank surmised, rubbing his hand through his short, course hair.

“Yet nobody knows who they are, not even HYDRA from the sounds of it.”

“Which means they weren’t there long enough to be documented more than receiving a number and classification.”

Logan passed the bottle to Frank, “bodes well for the Omega, not so much for those looking for them though.”

“Yeah,” Frank murmured as he grabbed the bottle and began pouring himself a glass. “What do you want to do about Scott?”

Logan shrugged, “I don’t know man.”

After that, the two sat in silence pondering their newfound information. Frank on the news of Scott and Omega 13. Logan on Violet and her connection to the team he used to be apart of. So much to think about, so little time to react to it. They needed to move soon, get away from here before everything went to shit. Frank needed to report back to the Avengers and Logan needed to reach out to Charles and find out what’s happening on his front. They knew this, and they ignored it.

Instead, they poured more whiskey into each other’s glasses and raised them to each other.

“Good to see you again brother,” Frank grunted.

“You too Lt.” Logan returned.

Then they drank and poured another glass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun duuunnnnnn, dun . dun . dun . . DUUUNNNNN! And that's the chapter! I realized while writing this that Logan knew something about Omega 13 because it only makes sense that if HYDRA couldn't find Omega 13, then well paid mercenaries probably could, which means a certain Deadpool might know a little bit more than our good old friend Wolverine *wink wink*. Violet is officially back! Who's excited for that? What do you guys think of Brea so far? Fan or no? I'm not planning on using her a lot because she's mostly background noise to Violet but it would e nice to get everyone's view on her so I know how much to use her in the future. Most importantly, what do you think's going to happen moving forward :) Please leave a comment and let me know what you think! :D
> 
> Also, weird thought, but what did you think of the animal choices for the Avengers and company? I thought they were reasonably spot on but I could be totally wrong. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	4. 'Quiet' Reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda talks about her first encounter with Brea, and The Avengers continue their journey to Oslo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my favorite chapter, but I felt like it needed to happen before the big stuff that's to come sooner than we might think. I hope you guys enjoy it! Please let me know what you think!
> 
> Also this chapter was minorly inspired by "Quite Reflection" by Tyler Bates and used for a certain Marvel TV Show that was oh so cruelly cancelled *sniff sniff* I'm not crying. I's allergies.

Chapter 3

‘Quiet’ Reflection

_New York City_

_July 2018_

It was a Wednesday afternoon when Wanda realized things were going to change forever. That life would no longer hold the simplicity and ease she had found since Baron was forced out of her life forever. A time she knew would come sooner rather than later.

And it all happened with a simple text.

_Going on a hunting trip, won’t be home for a few days. Already told Peter. Sam is available if I need any help. Take care, back before you know it. :P_

Violet sent that text a few days prior, sometime around 10:30 Sunday morning. “Hunting Trip” simply meant tracking down an Alpha and catching them doing something illegal. For the most part it’s reasonably successful, otherwise Wanda felt like it was a waste of time. She believed in such because most of the girls refuse to press charges, and Wanda understood why. The trial, the press, the suspense leading up to the verdict only to endure a crushing weight should the verdict come back “not guilty” which is easily misconstrued as “not worthy” on the victim’s side of things as Violet so eloquently put it one time. Wanda agreed with her. She just wished she phrased her words in a less vulgar way.

The sun was shining through the freshly cleaned window onto her kitchen sink. There were no clouds in the sky, the lonely tree in her backyard stood tall and firm as the leaves trembled in the wind. The window was slightly cracked open, allowing the blistering heat from the typical summer day to filter into her icebox of a house. Pietro needed it cold while Wanda preferred the heat. She was rinsing off the last plate when her phone started buzzing in her pocket.

This was the moment she realized everything was about to change. She couldn’t explain why she was suddenly overcome with the feeling, she just felt it and reacted to it the best she could. Quickly placing the plate with the other clean dishes, she dried off her hands with a paper towel before reaching into her pocket and pulling out her phone. It wasn’t Violet messaging her.

It was Claire, a nurse who worked at the nearby hospital who frequently helped Violet with her heats.

_Get here now. 911-V_

The Omega Protection had specific codes in place for certain situations. Most of them were color based that referred to traffic lights and emergency vehicles and were only ever used when an Omega’s or one of the team’s wellbeing was at stake. Green meant everything was going smoothly, no problems whatsoever. Yellow was be on the lookout, survivor incoming for shelter and medical help, possibly needs 24-hour surveillance pending on the state of them. Red stood for backup needed immediately and either involved a raging Alpha or dying patient, sometimes both. Red and Blue stood for emergency services on their way.

There was only one code they had that didn’t relate to a color, and that was 911. Whenever it was used it only referred to one of their own, and it was always followed by their initial. If that code was sent out it only meant one thing. One of their own had been attacked and could be in critical condition.

Wanda almost sank to the floor in fear at the message before running to fetch her purse and sprinting out the doorway. Violet was at the hospital and Wanda needed to get their now. She took the subway and alerted everyone she could reach before calling Claire and receiving more details on what happened.

Violet was brought in by Pietro and his partner after answering a call for someone lying unconscious outside the zoo. She was covered in blood, suffered multiple contusions, and a nasty gash on the right side of her head. She was also severely dehydrated. Apart from the head trauma, this was the main cause for concern. Aside from the head trauma, there were no broken bones or any other serious injuries. Claire wanted to pull out the rape kit, but as Wanda and Karen were her emergency contacts and medical proxies, she opted to wait until both gave their say. Wanda was all for it, hoping and praying that her sister wasn’t violated on top of everything else. Karen was in route to the hospital and was not able to give her consent just yet.

Therefore, they needed to wait.

Wanda beat everyone to the hospital apart from Pietro. He called in and told his boss that he was staying with Violet until her emergency contacts showed up, and his boss responded by telling him to take the rest of the day off. He sat in the surgery waiting room talking with Claire who filled him in on everything she knew thus far. When Wanda ran in, he jumped from his seat and pulled into the most protective and fiercest hug he could muster.

Everyone else showed up shortly after that.

Karen was first with Matt and Foggy in tow, quickly providing Claire with her consent for the rape kit as she entered the waiting room. Sam next still in uniform, rushing to get here instead of going home to change. Jessica barged in like a wild flame bursting to life, throwing all sorts of questions around concerning what happened and who could have done this. Then Peter shortly after, tearstained face and all. Wanda felt guilty about telling him, Violet would ring her neck for doing such, but he had the right to know just as much as everyone else.

Then they waited together.

For hours they waited. Barely speaking, barely moving from the terribly uncomfortable seats. Jessica couldn’t sit still, constantly fidgeting in her squeaky seat. Sam kept changing positions and surveying the corridors, like he was expecting her attacker to come in and finish the job only to be stopped by Sam Wilson, Detective extraordinaire. Pietro hugged both Wanda and Peter, staying strong and steady for the pair of them amid the suspense. Karen and Foggy talked amongst themselves about what could have happened and any potential suspects, but mostly just comforting one another with assuring words. Matt was a statue, unmoving during this troubling time.

Claire returned with one of the surgeons, a Dr. Palmer, who brought very good news.

“We’re happy to report that Ms. Mason will not be requiring surgery. There was minor swelling near her prefrontal cortex, but the results of the MRI reported that it was superficial and has already started going down with the medicine we administered. She might experience some amnesia from the events that led to the blow to the head, but other than that she should make a full recovery. We’ve given her fluids to counteract the dehydration, and again she should make a full recovery.”

“Anything back on the rape kit?” Jessica asked in normal blunt tone.

“We took a cheek swab to test for DNA as a precaution, along with her clothes to be sent to the lab, but I’m relieved to say that we found no signs of intercourse whatsoever.”

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. One crisis averted, now it was time to tackle the next one. Who could have done this to her?

“She’s currently resting, but you may visit her. No more than one at a time though.”

“Thank you, Dr. Palmer.” Wanda greeted her gratefully before turning back to the group.

Peter was the first to go in and, apart from Wanda, stayed the longest in Violet’s hospital room. He went in crying and was pulled out of the room absolutely balling by an equally morose Sam, who only stayed long enough to hold her hand and swear that he would find the people responsible for this. Karen, Foggy, and Jessica all did roughly the same as Sam, each different variation of sadness and anger. Pietro simply grabbed her hand and cried into the bed for a good few minutes before straightening up, kissing the tops of her fingers, and then leaving the room. Matt didn’t go in, opting to stay in the waiting room holding his walking stick like a lifeline and almost breaking it with his impossibly strong grip.

Wanda was the one who decided to stay with Violet, seeing as she was a nurse and could handle any intense situations should they arise better than the rest of the team. Pietro brought her a change of clothes and hugged her tightly once more. Then the group left to hunt down the ones responsible.

She was certainly quite the sight to see. No wonder Peter couldn’t hold it together. Her arms and chest were littered with bruises, and the bump on her head wasn’t nearly as bad as it was previously described but it didn’t look good either. Those red, curly locks splayed on the pillowcase, the pale and bruised beautiful face of her sister in ever sense of the word, Violet was safe and alive.

That’s all that mattered.

It was around midnight, long after Wanda changed into her comfy clothes and watched TV with the beaten and unconscious Violet, that she woke up. Or at least, it looked like she woke up. Wanda was watching an old Disney Original movie that was rarely shown anymore, “The Phantom of the Megaplex”. Wanda’s really taken to watching happy, hopeful cinema since her disastrous and almost lethal relationship with Baron. It was either Disney or Lifetime, and she knew without a single thought which one Violet would pick if she were awake.

And now she was. Starting with tiny little movements, wiggling of fingers and toes before the rest of her limbs came into play. Moving and moving, stretching out her sore and beaten body like a cat before curling in and going to sleep. Only she didn’t go to sleep, she opened her eyes wide and took in the whole world around her.

“Oh my God,” Wanda took a seat next to her on the bed, understanding the blatant look of shock on her face. “It’s okay! You’re safe, no one’s going to hurt you, and no one is going to find you. You’re okay!”

Violet didn’t respond, just stared at her strangely. Almost like she didn’t recognize her or what to do about her sudden presence. As if she were nothing more than a stranger that hopped into her bed and started coddling her instead of her sister.

“Violet, it’s me. Wanda.”

Violet cocked her head, speaking in a soft, childlike voice that in no way resembled her sister. “Where’s dad?” She looked around the room with fearful eyes, “where’s my dad?”

“Oh sweetie, I don’t know,” Wanda responded as best as she could, knowing her answer would be wrong no matter what she said. However, she didn’t realize how wrong it was to say such a thing until the normally kind eyes belonging to her dear friend went dark and empty at her vague response.

“I want my Dad,” Violet growled, actually growled at Wanda, before abruptly leaning forward and grabbing Wanda by the throat and shoving her away.

Wanda went tumbling backwards, and before she could react everything went black.

_Quinjet_

_Present Day_

“After that Violet must have gotten out of the room because when I woke up, she was gone, and Dr. Palmer was tending to me.” Wanda explained gently, pressing a cold pack to her tricep while Jarvis gingerly massaged her right shoulder from behind her.

“When did you next see Violet? Did she come back that night?” Steve question, voice calm and unthreatening.

“It was about an hour or so after I woke up, maybe 2 hours after she supposedly left. She didn’t come back though; she was brought back.”

“By whom?” Tony cut in, attempting to mimic the calm Steve exhibited in his voice but not quite managing it.

Wanda grimaced, “Some man, if you can call him a man. He wore a red and black suit, went on and on about his girlfriend who died in an explosion while Violet just hugged him close and . . .” Wanda sighed, bristling at the memory, “kissed his cheek in assurance. He wore a matching red and black mask, but the bottom part of his face was uncovered so he could speak more clearly.” Wanda shivered in disgust. “His skin was burnt and mangled, like he was shoved in a furnace only to be pulled out at the last second. Terrible, and he smelled disgusting. A walking mixture of sex, sewer, and bad BO.

Anyways, he kept talking about Vanessa, and Violet, or should I say Brea, kept listening and helping him through it. Almost shooting one of the nurses who came through and nearly interrupted their exchange with one of the guns he brought in. Once he was finished, he kneeled on the floor, took off his mask, and laid his mangled head in her lap.”

Wanda took a breath to steady herself, anxious to be over with this. “He said, _if you’re this awesome, I can’t even imagine what Violet is like. Think I’ll meet her someday?!_ And she responded with, _of course you will, any friend of mine is a friend of hers, and I know she would love to meet you._ Then she looked at me from across the room and just,” Wanda started waving at the corner of the Quinjet with her good hand, “waved at me with that big smile and dead eyes. _I’m Brea,_ she said. _What’s your name?_ And that’s all I know about how Brea came into existence.”

“And this has never happened before?” Steve pressed, concern coloring his normally stoic expression.

Wanda shook her head, “never. I mean she’s reverted before, but never to this extent. Like how she was in the Med-Bay with the nightmare. That’s a slight, slight version of Brea that ultimately boils down to Violet really needing comfort more than anything.”

Tony rubbed his face in frustration, “so whatever happened to her during those few days caused her small and inconsequential revert to full blown secondary personality-”

“and whatever happened in that conversation with the man shaped Brea into what we encountered today?” Steve surmised, glancing at Tony for confirmation only to be provided by FRIDAY instead.

“I’m afraid there’s no concrete evidence to prove your theory Captain but based on what Ms. Maximoff reported we can only assume it to be correct for the time being.” The robotic voice responded in its normal brusque manner.

Steve pursed his lips slightly, “do you know if she’s seen this man again?”

Wanda shook her head fiercely, “No. If she had she would have told me or told Peter who would have told me. That was the only time any of us have seen him.”

“Would you be able to identify him if you ever saw him again?” Tony cut in; brown eyes intense.

Wanda shrugged, “Possibly, though I doubt there are many burn victims who wear black and red Kevlar suits out in public.”

Steve nodded stiffly before taking a deep breath and then addressing Wanda and Jarvis once more. “Thank you for your help, and thank you for allowing us to question her, Jarvis.”

The Alpha hugged his Omega close, “of course Captain, anything to help one of our own. Now we must get Ms. Maximoff looked after though I’m afraid my medical skills are rather subpar.”

“If you’ll let me, I might be of some help,” Steve quickly offered, standing to his feet and reaching out his hands for Wanda to take.

“That would be quite generous of you Captain, my dear are you alright with him examining your injuries?” Jarvis directed towards the Omega.

She smiled brightly and kissed Jarvis on the cheek, “yes my alpha, but only if you’re there to take care of me as well.”

“As you wish,” Jarvis smiled, gently squeezing her shoulder before the three headed away from the main area and to a more secluded spot on the ship, waving Tony goodbye as they did so.

The area was mostly cleaned up after the unexpected and near fatal joy ride ‘Brea’ took them on a short while ago. Hobbled Clint and an annoyed Rhodey spent most of their time doing that while the rest were busy doing other things. Steve questioning Wanda, Tony and FRIDAY checking the ship for damages and running diagnostics while petting Peter’s wavy chocolate curls and staring lovingly at his unconscious form. Darcy was still unconscious and laid haphazardly on both her cot and the floor after being thrown without a care by Clint and Rhodey. Neither of them cared for her and secretly wished she would have died during the joy ride. Steve didn’t spare her a glance.

James and Natasha were with the newly unconscious Violet once more, only this time it was because Natasha pressed down on a pressure point in her neck that sent her straight back to sleep and not a result of their Alpha voices. James didn’t approve but kept it to himself. He had nothing to say now other than apologies for not thinking his plan through a bit more, but how could he have known this was going to happen? Natasha wasn’t blaming him, and that certainly helped his guilt, but the self-blame he was enduring kept the guilt alive and well.

They were not privy to the conversation between Wanda, Steve, and Tony. Their focus was on their chosen and ensuring her safety and wellbeing. They needed to protect her and fully intended to do so for the rest of their lives. What they hadn’t intended was the necessity of protecting her from herself, or more accurately a more unpredictable version of herself. They have been underestimating her for far too long, and it was time for that to change.

Once again, they bound her limbs together, but took the time to switch out the clothes she was sleeping in for ones that she could travel in and brave the cold temperatures of Oslo should she wake up again before they land. Taking away the crop top, Natasha pulled on a black sports bra and tank top, then a thick white thermal shirt fit their darling perfectly (her scar going completely unnoticed by the two) and a heather blue zip hoody that fit her just as well. After a brief discussion they opted to keep the boxers on her. James didn’t want to risk the temptation of seeing the wonderful place between her legs. He feared he would take her right then and there if he wasn’t careful. He could have lost her, but that wasn’t a justifiable excuse. Just the thought of it started to make him hard, but he forced those thoughts away.

Violet deserved better than that.

Thankfully, Natasha agreed with him on the conundrum. Instead of taking them off they pulled on a pair black thermal pants followed by charcoal grey sweatpants. Lastly, they pulled on thick grey socks to keep her feet warm, but no shoes. James had no intention of letting her feet touch the ground, making the bold and unnecessary choice of carrying her wherever they went until they reached Loki’s palace. Once the socks were on, they tied her up, and now they sat on the edge of her cot caressing her exposed skin without a care in the world.

They would arrive soon. Even with the slight detour of ‘Brea’s’ joyride, they were right on schedule thanks to FRIDAY’s impeccable planning and quick thinking. The Alphas could barely wait any longer, impatient to finally spend time alone with their chosens after a long and arduous journey to get to this point. Of course, they would need to endure a quick meeting with Peter Quill and his peculiar yet useful team of misfits, along with catching up with Thor and Loki for their side of things.

Neither James nor Natasha wanted any part of that, nor Tony or Jarvis. All they wanted was time to get to know their Omega and start easing them into their new life. Wanda was already assimilating quite well, her desire to belong and feel loved fueling her assimilation. It also helped that Jarvis was quite the gentleman and particularly smitten with her in return. Peter was holding back, but already began bending to Tony’s will without even realizing it. His heart was strong and was not easily manipulated, but Tony found other ways to turn Peter over to his side and he needed this precious time alone with Peter to do so.

It went without saying that Violet was not assimilating whatsoever, her will too strong to be bent to their liking. She required the most patience and the most effort to ease into the life of an Avengers Chosen. It was vital to do this during their stay in Loki’s palace where they were safe and lying low for the time being. A place where they could place all their attention on her, learn everything about her, and provide anything she needed, anything she desired.

Except for escape or freedom from her Alphas and the Avengers. That they could not do. Would not do. She was theirs, and they were hers. They needed to make her understand that, make her see that this was not a life sentence in prison they offered her.

It was paradise.

“Boss, the landing deck 2 minutes out, preparing to descend,” FRIDAY spoke over the speakers, grasping the attention of everyone on board the jet.

The Alphas smiled at one another before returning their loving gazes to their fierce Omega.

“Almost there, baby. Almost there,” Natasha spoke softly, caressing Violet’s collarbone while squeezing James’ shoulder.

“You’re safe with us,” James added on, the pad of his thumb tenderly brushing the back of her bound hand, his palm encasing both hands in a gentle grip. “We’re going to take care you doll. I promise.”

Keeping their grip on her, the jet started to descend. Soon enough they would touch ground and trade the plane for state of the vehicles and make the short drive to Oslo, and the Loki’s palace. Soon they would be alone with Violet, and finally have the chance to talk to her without interruptions. Without sudden occurrences, without meetings and dealings that needed to be handled. Just time with their Omega, time they intended to explain what was happening and discuss the future.

And they couldn’t wait until that time came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! Turns out a certain Merc with Mouth has encountered our resident badass Omega shortly after an extremely traumatic event that brought Brea into existence. Who would have guessed that ;)? Next chapter the Avengers officially arrive in Oslo and Violet finally wakes up to find herself surrounded by Bucky and Natasha. What on earth could the three of them talk about I wonder??? Thank you guys so much for reading! Please leave a comment and let me know your thoughts! I really appreciate them!


	5. Chasing Starlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violet dreams . . . or does she remember?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little weird and it probably won't make a lot of sense so here's a rough explanation of what's happening. The beginning is Violet's dream before Bucky and Natasha use their Alpha voices to bring her back, and then when she's knocked out again her dreams occur while they're reaching their destination. Hopefully that will help with possible timeline issues in this chapter. I meant to post this last night but something about it felt off so I held it off for today and I'm really glad I did, I ended up fine tuning certain parts and adding to the chapter because of it. Thank you all for being so patient and thank you for reading my story! You guys are amazing!

Chapter 4

Chasing Starlight

_Violet and Company_

_Dream or a Nightmare?_

_July 2018_

New Jersey was a complete and utter shit hole. Granted, New York wasn’t much better, but at least there were things to do to pass the time for weirdos, transients, and stubborn Omegas on a stakeout. The best thing available was some stupid diner off the highway selling ‘authentic Mexican cuisines’ which meant half priced, almost out of date corn tortillas and salsa and definitely spoiled meat. Not the type of experience one should ever endure without good reason to which Violet certainly did. Despite the locale, Violet took residence in that diner, ate potentially poisoned street tacos, and waited for her perp to show.

Thankfully, she wasn’t alone.

George Ashley, a giant of a teenager who preferred to be called Groot, sat with her at the diner digging into his overflowing plate of tacos and burritos and making a spectacular mess of the table. Violet couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head at his antics. He was only a year or so older than her and yet still acted like a five-year-old by nature. He was a little slow, a car accident left him with permanent brain damage when he was a kid, but it didn’t affect him too much. In fact, with his pure outlook on life and never-ending smile, Violet was unashamed to admit that she envied him.

How different would her life be if she believed as strongly as he did?

He suddenly held up a burrito in front of his face, holding it with the gentlest of care. He leaned in close, eyes drooping, and breathed in the scent like it was the most mouthwatering smell he’s ever encountered. He glanced at Violet, winking in a conspiratorial manner, then chomped right into the middle of the burrito like a hamburger. The filling leaked out from the tortilla, running down his face, plopping onto the table, and sent Violet into a hysterical fit of giggles. Abs busting, can’t breathe no matter how hard she tried because she was laughing so hard type of giggles.

He chewed into his massive bite for a few seconds, mulling over the taste and texture and whatever else comes when consuming food, and then he nodded in conclusion. Dropping the ends of the burrito, he grabbed the napkin Violet handed to him and wiped his face clean of excess food. He tossed the garbage onto the plate and looked into Violet’s eyes with a completely deadpan expression.

“Violet, I love you, but this place sucks.”

Violet fell to the floor laughing, holding her gut and kicking her feet into the air. The other customers in the diner looked at her like she was crazy before attempting to turn back to their equally terrible meals. Groot smiled at her from his seat, staring adoringly at his wonderful friend.

Dark, wavy brown hair fell into his eyes, coallike in their color. His face was slightly disproportionate but also made sense in his disproportion. The type of handsome that didn’t make magazine covers or blockbuster movies but won awards for gripping performances on the small screen where it could truly shine. Freakishly tall at 6’7’, lanky and graceless body hulking over the diner table with ease. Hands calloused and rough from his construction job to which he was still wearing his work clothes from. The scent on his clothes contained metal and dust, but Groot himself smelled like an oak tree at the start of autumn.

Tan steel toed boots, jeans he made himself, white cotton t-shirt beneath a blue flannel shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves. His workman’s clothes contrasted wildly with Violet’s blue galaxy shirt that read Chasing Starlight, ripped denim jeans that had seen better days that she took from Peter when he was throwing them out. Her Dad’s baseball cap was tucked in the back pocket and stuck out like a sore thumb. The black Nikes were also hand me downs from Karen after she gave up on running in the mornings. Violet suspected it was nothing more than a ruse to get her to wear something nicer, but she took the gift with ease. The shoes ended up being really comfy and easy to run in.

Her red, curly locks reigned free as she laughed herself to death on the diner floor. One of the employees started towards her, a frustrated glint in her eyes, but was stopped at the look on Groot’s face. The smile was gone, the adoration vanished, leaving only a reproachful and intimidating look that clearly stated, “Do that and you’ll lose an eye.” The employee swiftly turned back and walked in the opposite direction. Groot watched them leave, and then turned his attention back to his dear friend.

Groot adored her. Ever since she stood up for him in grade school, the only person who’s ever stood up for him, he’s vowed to be there for her in any way, shape or form she needed him to be. After her Dad died, she moved away to New York City to live with her half-brother Billy, and things were hard for him for a long time after that. He was in and out of foster homes for all of his life, and at the stroke of midnight starting his 18th birthday he packed what little he had, used his hard earned money to buy a Greyhound bus ticket, and went straight to New York City.

Life just wasn’t worth living if he didn’t have someone to live it with, so he went after his dearest friend in the hopes of finding not just her, but a good life as well.

He didn’t think he would ever find her, but he was elated that he did. First week at his construction job and he literally bumped into her on his way to the halfway house where he was staying temporarily. Like a raging bull she crashed into him and sent the pair of them flying to the pavement. Righteous fury burned her eyes as she stood up to face him only to melt away at the sight of him.

“Holy shit, Groot?!”

And that was that.

He knew Brea, the lively and kind girl who watched the skies every chance she could with light in her eyes and a carefree smile on her face. He came to know Violet, the beaten and wizened woman who stood tall and strong but yearned for more. Her smile was dim, eyes far too often cold and untrusting. When Violet looked to the skies she didn’t simply watch, she searched for something or someone. Groot hoped she would find it, whatever it may be.

The fighting spirit, the need and desire to do what was right no matter how hard it seemed, remained after all this time. It was one of the few things that haven’t changed. The years were not kind to her golden heart, but she endured like the force he knew her to be. He always knew she was going to amazing places, if not in the way either would predict. She was destined for so much more than a shitty diner chasing down asshole Alphas. She was meant to climb mountains, sail the seven seas, stand atop pyramids and scream in victory.

She was a star, a Goddess in Groot’s mind, that was wasting away amongst the filth that polluted this good world. She deserved so much more. Groot hoped she would find someone who treated her as such someday.

It’s been a long time since Violet thought about sweet Groot and his easy smile. The first friend she ever had that she knew she could depend on no matter what, way before Peter came into the picture. Even when they weren’t living in the same state, he was only ever a phone call away. The shoulder to cry on, the stone wall to vent to, the warm embrace to escape in, all those things and more could be found with him. He was always there, and she never failed to appreciate that.

She couldn’t remember the last time she saw him. Was it months, perhaps years ago? She couldn’t remember why they stopped hanging out, why he suddenly disappeared, and she didn’t even notice until now. How could she forget him? Apart from Peter, he was one of the most important people in her world and she just now thought of him?

What was wrong with her?

She didn’t focus on those thoughts, opting to worry and ruminate over them later. Right now, she just wanted to bask in this long-forgotten memory. A memory that felt so new she couldn’t believe she had the chance to experience it before.

Violet rolled around on the ground, wrapping her arms tight around her abs before she finally stopped laughing, grinning up at the smiling Groot.

“Get off your high horse and join me on the ground, it’s way more fun down here.”

Groot snorted, “based on the platter of beans you just rolled around in, I’d say you were right.”

“I sleep next to a dumpster every night. I’ll take spoiled beans over rat feces any day.” Violet winked, then rolled around on the floor some more to prove her point.

Groot hummed, rubbing his chin with a pondering expression. “How about weak old chicken versus dirty diaper?”

She sat up, pursing her lips in contemplation. “What’s in the diaper?”

Groot smirked, “you know what’s in the diaper.”

Violet grimaced, nodding in conclusion. “In that case, I’ll take chicken.”

“Even with the gnats and bugs?”

“Dude,” she gave him a sardonic look, “they’re both wastes, they’re both going to attract bugs, and both are super gross. Ergo, if I must choose between them to determine which one I’m sleeping next to then my life officially sucks, and I need to find a new place to sleep.”

“Point taken,” Groot rumbled, scratching and itch on his nose.

Violet jumped to her feet and plopped back into her seat opposite him. “So, which you choose to sleep next to? An oak log that has been struck by lightning or a willow tree suffering from rot?”

Groot gasped, mouth dropping at her deplorable question.

“How dare you assume I would sleep next to trees that so desperately needed my help?”

“My bad,” Violet let out a few chuckles before forcing them away, taking a deep breath and expressing an apologetic gleam in her sky-blue eyes. “I’m sorry for offending you.”

Groot shrugged, “no big deal. I did start it with the dirty diaper thing.”

“And I ended it with an insult to your lovely, wooden brethren.” She stuck out a hand, “call it even and move on?”

Groot shook her hand gratefully, smiling indulgently at her, “good with me.”

“Sweet,” Violet bounced in her spot, “did you ever go to that Muse concert?”

“I did, but I wasn’t anywhere near the stage. The performance itself was great, but I didn’t like the drunk people though. They kept trying to climb me and get me to throw them on top of the crowd, so they could _surf_. Whatever that means.”

“That’s where the person is carried by the other attendants. It’s reminiscent of people floating in a pool or a lake or any body of water that’s large enough to let them float only it’s not nearly as comfortable.” Violet responded, shrugging through her explanation.

Groot cocked his head, “have you . . . _surfed_ a crowd before?”

She grimaced once more, “once or twice. Neither time was at a concert though.”

“Where was it at?”

“At a bar . . . maybe three . . . all their own separate occasion.” Violet started messing with her hair, glancing out the window before returning her gaze to assess Groot.

He frowned, “drinking again?”

She sighed, “I know you don’t like it, and I’m sorry. I just don’t know how to help Darcy, and even Jessica, when they’re dead set on getting blitz and fucked up and I’m over here wearing my faux sobriety t-shirt which really means _I’m jailbait, don’t serve me alcohol_ , even though they serve it to me anyway. Darcy waves those 100-dollar bills then everyone goes batshit and throws the rules out the window.”

“Just because they do it doesn’t mean you have too,” Groot started, eyes drooping slightly, “you told me that a long time ago.”

“I remember,” Violet winked, “and I might have changed a fuck ton since grade school, but do you really think I’m the type to fall into peer pressure?”

The droopiness eased slightly, “no, not at all.”

“And what would I do to those who would bother to try and pressure me?”

Groot smiled, “kick them in the balls and yell-”

“ _Try getting your dick sucked now!_ ” The pair of them answered in unison, screaming their responses and falling into another fit of giggles.

From the corner of Violet’s eye, she could see the employees at the diner getting quite fed up with their antics. Normally she would take this as a cue to leave and move on, but today she felt like kicking things up a notch. She smirked mischievously at Groot, wiggling her eyebrows before glancing down at their plates of food. He didn’t understand what she was getting at, so she winked at him and stood from the booth, addressing the employees on the other side of the bar counter.

“I’m so terribly sorry for my friend’s antics, he just can’t stand it when people refuse to talk about his penis.” Violet shrugged, forcing herself to not laugh at the astounded and frustrated looks on their faces. “I mean, can you really blame him?” She walked towards the countertop, resting her elbows on the grainy surface. “6’7’ and he’s hung like a horse. Most giants I meet are lucky to surpass the length of their finger.” Violet abruptly pointed her index finger in their faces, morphing her expression into one of appalled horror. “A finger. How terrible must it be for a man whose _finger_ is longer than the entire length of his manhood? Especially one that looks like him?”

Violet turned and pointed to Groot, who looked just as bewildered as everyone else staring at her.

She kept rolling with it. “You know, I’ve never actually seen his dick. You think he might be telling the truth, ladies and gentlemen of the diner?” She turned to address the crowd, a crowd that consisted of elderly couples and a guy snorting something off his plate. She didn’t really expect an answer, but when a grandma with a big cane and a determined look on her face stands up, Violet took a step back and waited for a response.

Boy was she not expecting the response she got.

“Pull ‘em down sonny boy!” The Grandma yelled then twirled her cane like she wanted to throw a lasso and pull him into her. “Granny needs a new man in her life.”

“Oh damn,” Violet mumbled to herself before glancing at Groot.

The poor guy looked traumatized, hands moving to cover his dick as he gazed at the gyrating Grandmother in terror. Violet didn’t really want to add to his discomfort, she just wanted to make a point, and now she was going to have to deal with this shit in order to do so. She took a deep breath and pointed to the Grandmother.

“You heard her buddy,” she taunted at Groot, a shit-eating grin on her face, “what are you going to do about it?”

Oh, poor Groot, Violet was going to hell for this.

His mouth opened and closed in shock a few times before he finally replied, “ask her to stop?”

Violet shrugged, “you could.” She turned to face the lady, “Yo Granny! He’s asking if you would lay off?!”

“Not a chance!” Granny yelled, humping the air as she sauntered over to poor Groot, “I’m going to get you in my bed tonight!”

“Oh damn,” Violet repeated, concern starting to overwhelm her senses, but she pushed them away. “C’mon Groot, why not? Why not just wipe away,” she physically made the motion with her hands, pointedly staring at the dishes at their table, “your insecurities and show everyone what God graced you with!” She nodded to the dishes once more, mimicking the same shoving motion with her hands, “that’s right, just wipe them away and we’ll see what happens.”

Groot stared at Violet in shock, failing to comprehend what Violet was trying and failing to say to him. It wasn’t until she completely gave up trying to mime her intentions and simply knocked over a coffee cup, the glass shattering on the floor. The way the realization dawned on his face would have made her laugh at any other point, but now she was a bit too focused on the feisty, sexual Grandma who was making gross movements as she kept walking closer to him.

Did she really think she had a lasso?

Groot stood up from his seat, reached out his hands, and swept all the contents on their table onto the ground. Plates breaking, silverware clanging, cups bouncing, and food plopping on the gross floor. Everything went silent. No one dare moved. Not even the elderly sex fiend.

Then Groot stood tall, took a deep breath, and yelling, “Try catching me now, Grandma!” and bolted for the exit.

Violet whooped and cheered for him, hopping over the mess he made before turning back and addressing the customers and employees.

“Thank you all, you’ve been a wonderful audience, you will never see me again. Goodnight!”

Violet attempted to bow before following Groot’s exit, but then Granny decided to but in.

“Not so fast, sugar!” Granny yelled, grasping Violet’s suddenly horrified attention. Granny was unbuttoning her shirt, licking her lips as she stared Violet down. “I lost me a giant, but I’ll take it’s guiding fairy instead.”

“Damn lady, you’re feisty.” Violet appraised her reluctantly, “what are you, 90?”

“I’m 62, now get over here and make me feel good!”

“Fuck no,” Violet retaliated, grabbing hold of Granny’s cane and ripping it out of her hands, then throwing it over the counter where the employees sat their completely stunned out of their minds. Then she tossed three more coffee cups at the Granny before yelling, “Try catching me now, Granny!” and flying through the exit door.

Violet ran into Groot’s arms as soon as she was outside, and the pair laughed and laughed as they clamored into his truck and sped away like bats out of hell.

Then everything started changing.

Before long the laughter suddenly changed, and the skies started getting dark. The laughter was light and airy, friends enjoying a stupid joke together, but then it got harsher and louder. The sun suddenly disappeared, leaving only dim flickering lights. They weren’t in Groot’s truck anymore, they were in a cold, barren cave like room that was wet and stunk like a sewer. Soon enough the laughter was gone, and only screams remained.

“Violet,” Groot had laughed just a moment ago with his easy smile and kind eyes.

Now he screamed “VIOLET!” with pure terror in his voice. The smile gone and replaced with a grimace of pain. The kindness evaporated until nothing but wide-eyed fear was in those dark, coal eyes. Hands were on him, dragging him away. Sweat and dirt soaked his skin, blood trickled down the side of his head. His shoes and socks were gone, his shirt was torn to shreds. Only his jeans remained, and they were covered in mud and blood.

Violet saw him from behind bars. She was in a cage and she wasn’t alone inside of it. Other girls just as beaten and broken as she were trapped with her. They all sat there broken and defeated. She was the only one dumb enough and brave enough to fight, or at least try to. She tried pulling on the bars, desperate to get to him.

“GROOT!” She screamed, punching and kicking the bars with everything she had.

“Violet, help me!” He fought the men that had him in his grasp, but it was no use. One of them pulled out a stun baton and shoved it against his chest. He howled from the pain and began collapsing to the ground.

“I’m going to find you! I’m going to save you! I promise! I’ll find you!!!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, fighting the bars with all her might. Pulling, scratching, clawing, kicking, and punching with everything she had.

“Violet,” a small, meager voice whispered behind her, whispering so softly she almost didn’t catch it.

She turned to face the voice, and everything stopped.

“Peter?” Violet whispered, releasing the bars without a second thought.

Like a guardian angel, his soft and comforting form floated towards her like a guiding light that would lead her to heaven. He smiled gratefully, reaching out to pull her into a hug. She did so happily. Peter was here. He was safe and sound, but Groot wasn’t. She can’t forget Groot. She already forgot him once, she can’t do it again.

He smiled at her, those warm chocolate eyes gazing at her with nothing but kindness. His hands moved up to cup her face. Stepping in close until her forehead touched hers.

“Wake up,” Peter continued, his voice slightly more pronounced than before.

She wanted to. She wanted to go with him and never worry about anything ever again. To sip margaritas on the beach and laugh as the pair of them tried and failed to surf. But she couldn’t. Groot needed her. She promised she would find him. She can’t break that.

“I can’t, I have to stay. Groot needs me.”

“Come back to us,” he spoke as if he didn’t hear anything she said, and his voice was deeper, gravelly. He didn’t sound like himself. In fact, it was started to sound like two people instead of one.

Violet looked up and fell backwards in shock.

In Peter’s place was none other than Bucky Barnes and Natasha Romanov, crimson and burnt sienna intermingling and staring deep into the pits of Violet’s soul. Each had a hand on her and kept her from falling away from them. Pulling her in close, ignoring her screams and struggles, they spoke in unison, a terrible harmony emanating from their voices that took Violet to a place she wasn’t prepared to go.

“ **Return to your Alphas.** ”

And the floor suddenly shot upwards, like an elevator destined towards heaven or somewhere equally high and away from wherever she was. She tried to fight; she couldn’t leave Groot behind. He needed her more than anything right now, she couldn’t let this happen.

But Violet was not in control.

Suddenly, after many struggles and many screams, everything stopped moving.

Her mouth was dry, her body hurt, everything was too bright, and nothing made sense right now. There were hands on her, she could feel them no matter how much she didn’t want to. What was happening? She lifted her head, groaning with the effort it took, and once more her gaze landed on Natasha Romanoff.

“Where the Fuck am I?” She tensed up, searching her surroundings for anything that could help understand what was going on. “Where’s Peter?” He disappeared so quickly. Maybe these assholes scared him off? She wouldn’t put it past them. She needed to find him, protect him, just like she needed to protect-

Before Violet could finish that thought, Natasha grabbed Violet’s face and kissed her dead on the lips, and Violet was too confused and befuddled to put any sort of fight. The kiss was surprisingly soft, passionate yet oh so careful. Like Natasha wanted to eat her alive without causing her an ounce of pain. She shifted the kiss, easing into Violet’s mouth without warning.

The coppery taste of blood fell onto her tongue, the overwhelming scent of Natasha and Bucky filled her senses, sending her for a loop. What was happening? Where was she? This was too much, she needed to get out of here.

Then there was a sharp pain in her neck, something that seemed to be happening far too much lately, and suddenly Violet was falling again.

Deep in into pits of darkness she fell. All semblance of light was gone, the Alpha scents were gone, and she couldn’t hear anything. All she had was the taste of blood, the pain in her body, and the painful memories that were already beginning to fade. The longer she fell, the more they disappeared.

Who was she supposed to look for?

It’s strange how dreams work. One-minute Violet was falling down into a deep, dark whole of nothingness. Now she was sitting up from the cold ground, surrounded by gravestones. There were no names engraved, no meager carvings, no marks at all. Just blank stones standing resolutely in ground, all facing towards her. Violet gingerly stood to her feet, turning in a slow circle as took in her surroundings with trepidation. What was going to happen now?

A snuffling noise sounded from the distance, somewhere far off behind her. She turned in its direction, eyes wide as she searched for the source. The snuffling grew louder, coming closer and closer as it did. Violet readied herself the best she could for whatever was going to come. She might be confused as shit and more scared than she’ll ever admit, but she wasn’t going down without a fight.

Ever.

A few more moments the snuffling continued. Violet kept her focus on the area she knew the noise would eventually reveal itself. She widened her stance, readied her fists, and waited for the inevitable. She expected something similar to a jump scare that is far too overused in horror movies nowadays. Instead she got something much simpler.

And also, not what she expected.

Tom Cruise dressed like Lestat from _Interview with a Vampire_. Brenden Frasier from _The Mummy_ franchise. Inigo Montoya brandishing the last sword his father ever made and threatening to kill her in memory of him. Kristen Stewart portraying Bella Swan on her first day at Forks High School. All of those things she expected well before she ever could thought of this. Instead of a list of characters and the actors who portrayed them, what came into her line of sight was nothing more than a small animal with a happy look on their face.

A little red fox trotted towards Violet with a skip in their step before plopping their behind on the cold ground in front of her, their front paws resting gently on Violet’s bare feet. Violet stared incredulously at the little fox, desperately trying to place them. _I know you_ , she thought to herself, _how do I know you_? Kneeling down to look eye to eye with the small creature, Violet stared into Magenta eyes and answered her own question in an astounded voice.

“Brea?”

“Hey Violet,” the little fox spoke. Her lips didn’t move apart from opening her jowls and letting her tongue hang loose. “It gets cold here when you’re not in control.”

“I don’t know why I wasn’t.” Violet replied softly.

“Doesn’t matter,” the fox shrugged, “you needed a break anyway.”

Violet’s lips quirked slightly, “I guess we all do.” She looked around her suddenly, brow furrowing in distress, “I should be looking for someone.”

The fox shook its head, leaning in to bop her wet nose against Violet’s cheek.

“Trust me, some things are better left forgotten.”

“But,” Violet started, frustratedly rubbing her forehead, “it’s not a thing, it’s someone . . . I just can’t-”

“Don’t worry about it,” the fox interrupted, “you’re just going to stress yourself out and make life so much harder than it needs to be. Besides, if you’re doing that, who’s going to protect Peter from the bad guys?”

Violet’s head shot up, eyes focusing once more on the little red fox. “Holy shit! Peter! How could I forget Peter?”

“You didn’t,” the fox assured, stepping back and turning in a circle, “you’re just really confused because hates you.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Violet laughed, relief rushing through her as she found her answer. Peter. That’s who she was looking for. But he isn’t here, he’s someplace else.

The fox nodded to the right of her, budging Violet in that direction. “C’mon, I’ll take you somewhere you can recuperate before knocking down baddies and saving damsels in distress.”

“Sounds good,” Violet answered as she stood to her feet, smiling as the little fox yipped in excitement and jumped alongside her.

As they walked snow started falling all around them, and a silver moon appeared just as suddenly from high above them. The cold melted away, and Violet felt like her old self again. What was she so worried about? How bad could her dream have been when she couldn’t even remember it now?

Together she and Brea walked a path and entered a haven she didn’t know existed, and before long she wasn’t walking anymore. She was floating. Higher and higher into the sky until she was one with the stars, and then higher still. There was no pain, no sadness, just a weightless feeling fueling her soul and lifting her spirits until she felt nothing but what thought to be peace.

Violet felt good, and in the back of her mind she knew it would last. She basked in the feeling for as long as she could, counting the seconds she was able to do so. A hand touched her hair, fingers gently pulling at her locks. Sweet whispers filled her mind, whispers she couldn’t understand. She followed them, clung to them, and relaxed in the warm embrace she was suddenly enveloped in.

Warm scents filled her mind. Scents that smelled so good but shouldn’t be. Red wine, cayenne, and snow with saffron, honey, rose petals, and fresh bread. Whiskey and red cinnamon apples with burning cedar, pages from a new book, and falling rain. It took her a minute to realize why these scents should not feel so good, so warm to her. Once she did, she fucking panicked.

Opening her eyes, the first thing she noticed was James’ metal arm wrapped around her waist, Natasha playing with a lock of her curly blue hair, and they were all curled up in a bed together.

Natasha smiled at her, burnt sienna burning into her just like the dream, “Look who’s awake. It’s about time. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Violet did the first thing she could think of.

She shoved Natasha off the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hiding in my hidey hole* Violet realizes where she is and has another conversation with Bucky and Natasha in the next chapter. I wonder when she'll find out about Peter and what Tony did to him *cue the devil horns*. The pair might feature in the next chapter if I'm lucky. What did you guys think of the chapter? Did it answer some lingering questions you've had or just create even more? More importantly, did everything make sense? I really hope it did lol. Again thank you guys so much for reading! You're amazing! And please leave a comment and let me know what you think! :D


	6. Everything I Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violet, Bucky, and Natasha begin talking things out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the beginning of the chapter because it's kind of long! :D Please enjoy!
> 
> This chapter was partially inspired by the song "You Are So Beautiful" Feat. Brooke by Tommee Profitt. It's really cool and if you're interested you should check it out!

_Just a quick note before I start the chapter!_

_To clear up any confusion that’s happening right now, while attempting to hold back any spoilers for what’s coming next in the story, I’m going to briefly explain what’s going on with the Brea and Violet situation and hopefully clear up timeline issues._

_Violet is the original and dominant personality. The personality that has been there and existed her whole 18 soon to be 19 years. She was born Brea Abernathy and rechristened herself Violet Mason due to trauma and attempting to hide herself from the Avengers. ‘Brea’, the second personality that we encountered at the beginning of ‘Part 2’ of this story, is an inaccurate and exaggerated version of what Violet thought herself to be like as a kid that she created to protect herself from all the shit that occurred during the time she went ‘missing’. Ergo, the events that led to and proceeded ‘Omega 13’._

_With that in mind, ‘Brea’ isn’t a complete other personality. She serves more as a barricade or a barrier between Violet and the damage she suffered during that period while still retaining an inkling of autonomy in situations where Violet is completely unconscious, allowing ‘Brea’ to emerge and explore. Situations like the Alphas using their Alpha tones to keep Violet asleep, or when Violet was in the hospital with Wanda. Otherwise, ‘Brea’ can’t come out._

_This started in July 2018 while the present timeline is November 2019. I didn’t specify when Groot came back into her life, but it was approximately the Summer of 2017. He’s a lone wolf type, and particularly shy as well, so he didn’t interact with Violet’s friends or anyone really. Peter included. He mostly worked his construction job, tended to his garden, volunteered planting trees, and spending time with Violet. In other words, as close to a perfect life he could get. That’s why no one mentions him or thinks about him because he wasn’t a big part of any of their lives. Just Violet’s who doesn’t remember him because of what happened to her during that time._

_Hopefully I cleared things up a little bit. If you have any other questions, please let me know and I will do my best to answer them! You guys rock!_

Chapter 5

Everything I Need

_Natasha_

_Whereabouts unknown_

It shouldn’t come as a surprise that the first thing Violet would do upon waking up is push Natasha out of bed. What was surprising was that Natasha didn’t see it coming. Too distracted by those mesmerizing stars in her hypnotizing eyes, Natasha didn’t see Violet’s hands move until she was suddenly rolling to the floor. Poor move on her darling’s part. By pushing Natasha away, it only further entrapped her in James’ inescapable embrace.

And she was so comfortable too.

After traveling for hours, enduring the chaos that was Brea, and then dealing with the Guardians and their antics, Natasha just wanted to cuddle up with her mate and her future mate and relax into the bed. Naturally, just like the last time they had their chance to cuddle with her, James and Natasha only had five minutes before their fiery darling started stirring between them, making adorable little noises and shifting her body to get comfortable between her alphas.

Natasha whispered sweet murmurs to her darling, playing with her hair, heart filling with unbridled joy when Violet leaned in and pressed her face against Natasha’s chest. So sweet, so soft her darling was beneath the walls she constantly had up, even from Peter. Violet was a ball of everlasting light. Brought both challenge and charm to their lives, already fulfilling the role she was destined for without even realizing it.

Now it was time for James and Natasha to fill theirs.

The moment Natasha was pushed from the bed, Violet started yelling and fighting James’ hold. Pounding the bed, grunting in her effort, and it came to nothing. James clamped down, turning them over until she was on her front and he was at her back. He moved his hands up to trap her wrists and cage them against the soft mattress, circling his legs around hers and confining them with his muscular thighs. He pressed his face into the back of her neck, taking in her scent while keeping his groin well away from her quivering body. This was already scary enough for his Violet, he didn’t want to add to it by pressing his morning wood against her ass.

The grunts of exertion quickly turned to muted whimpers of fear. She struggled beneath him, fighting her alphas as she always would, refusing to give into them. He loved her for it. They both did.

Natasha lithely stood from the cold stone floor, rolling her shoulders and stretching out her neck before smiling down at the pair. Such an erotic sight. Violet’s face was turned towards her, scrunched in as she forced her eyes closed, shoulders stiff as a board as she tried pulling her hands from James’ grasp. So adorable. She couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she loses all inhibitions, all the stress and tension she’s surmounted over the years and watch it all just melt away as Natasha gave her the pleasure she so richly deserves.

“Vozlyublennaya,” Natasha spoke in her sultry voice, “there’s no reason to fight. You’re safe with us.”

“Where the Hell am I?” Violet growled, giving another tug to James’ hold. “Where’s Peter?”

“Peter’s with Tony,” Natasha started before glancing at her watch, “and quite possibly getting ready for breakfast. Which we will do once you’re calmed down.”

“Not interested,” Violet spat.

Natasha lifted an eyebrow. “When’s the last time you ate? Water and spiked alcohol don’t count, in case you were wondering.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because neither of us will have you starving yourself.”

Violet scoffed, “that would mean I’m intentionally not eating just to spite everyone which couldn’t be further from the truth.”

“So, what is the truth?”

“You’re sexually psychotic?” Violet retorted, smirking as she did. “He’s a traumatized soldier who can’t stop following your orders to save his sanity, and I’m not interested having breakfast with either of you. Is that enough truth for you?”

If anyone had said anything reminiscent of that to either of them, both Alphas would have ripped them limb from limb and fed the person their intestines before they finally perished. However, Violet wasn’t just anyone. Natasha sat back down on the bed, laying out her body next to the struggling pair, and played with her Violet’s lovely curls.

“You’re feisty in the mornings, aren’t you?”

“I am when I wake up in a bed with my kidnappers who won’t stop either tying me up, holding me down, or committing some salacious act that’s adds to my well of nightmare fuel.”

“Most of those were precautions to prevent you from further hurting yourself-” Natasha started before she was quickly interrupted.

“Bullshit,” Violet cut in, “you did it because wanted to control me, just like every other Alpha that’s tried getting in my pants since I presented.”

Natasha lost her smirk. The idea of any Alpha attempting such an act made her want to burn the world down. The burnt sienna simmered as she responded in a slow, intimidating tone. “I don’t seek control of people, not really. I desire control of the situation.” Her fingers trailed down to caress Violet’s cheek while her other hand ran up Violet’s exposed arm, caressing James’ ironclad grip, until she cupped Violet’s clenched hand. “Bondage, and other forms of restraint, merely help me enact control so I can pursue my primary goal.”

“What is that? Turning participants into meat puppets or human blow up dolls?”

“No,” Natasha spoke softly, leaning closer and closer until her lips were right next to Violet’s ear, “to give them what they need.”

Violet tensed even more at Natasha’s words, mimicking a coiled spring with how tightly wound up she was. Natasha wanted to soothe her, rub some oil on her back and massage those muscles until she was fully relaxed. First, she needed to get some food and nutrients in her, then she can have her fun. James already agreed to it with the condition that Natasha doesn’t go too far, and Violet had to have her say. Natasha frowned at that, but there was no time to dwell on it.

Violet needed tending to now.

“And how do you know what they need?” Violet grated out, teeth clenched and jaw just as tense as the rest of her.

“Most of the time it’s previously discussed,” Natasha brushed her thumb across the back of her darling’s clenched hand. “Other times it’s a work in progress, a process that requires equal amounts of trust and communication as we work together to find the root of the problem. Sometimes it’s perfectly obvious.”

“How so?”

“I’m sure you know how,” Natasha’s smirk returned, “you seem the type to recognize different facets of people just by looking at them.”

“Kind of comes naturally when you’re hiding out for five years and have to watch your back from rapey Alphas like you.” Violet retorted in a reluctant tone. “So, observation. That’s it?”

Natasha gritted her teeth but continued as if Violet hadn’t said such a pointed comment. “With open books that’s all you really need. Just watch their reactions and you can have their whole life story by lunchtime.”

“That’s incredibly arrogant,” Violet cut in, “even open books have their secrets. Twists and turns even someone as . . . experienced as you wouldn’t be expecting.”

Natasha pursed her lips, “you have a point, but not everyone is a John Le Carre` book containing multifaceted details that foreshadows a plethora of futures before it all points to the core of the person’s true essence leading them to one eventuality.”

“Death,” Violet concluded.

Natasha nodded, but her darling couldn’t see it because her eyes were still slammed shut. “Yes, the one thing we all eventually have in common.”

“Yippee,” Violet grated.

Natasha gazed at her darling, thinking about where to take this conversation next when Violet asked, “and what exactly do you think I need?”

Natasha hummed in surprise, pleased with the question as she thought about her answer. Violet’s expression flinched slightly, as if she were already regretting the question. Natasha couldn’t help but smile at that. Tony constantly fawned over how adorable Peter was, but in both Natasha and James not so humble opinions, Violet far exceeded the charming boy in cuteness.

“Honestly?” Natasha started, catching the change in Violet’s expression before she could continue, “you were about to say _‘no, lie to me’_ , weren’t you?”

Violet grimaced in disgust, “I need better quips.”

“It’s an obvious opening, yet you didn’t take it which means you are not so easily fooled.”

“Which is what you want me to think,” Violet grated.

Natasha smirked, glancing at James to get his take. Though his grip was strong and inescapable, his expression was one of pure contentment. Crimson eyes crinkling slightly, his dark locks into his face, the tension that seemed to never leave him appeared to have eased. He gave Natasha a small smile, nodding slightly to urge her on. Good, that meant the conversation wasn’t going too far. Natasha winked at him before turning her attention back to Violet.

“To answer your question, I’m not entirely sure what it is you need. I have ideas, but you’re not an open book. You present yourself as such to lull other open books in without alarming them. Not to trick and deceive, but to protect and care.” Natasha smiled slightly at the way Violet bit her lip in frustration. “If I had to base it purely off of what I’ve seen and heard from your friends, comrades, acquaintances, and even patients, I’d have to say what you needed is to be treated the same way you treat others in your care . . .” Natasha trailed off, tangling her fingers in Violet’s hair, “with gentleness and patience.”

“And tying me down is the way you would give that to me?” Violet replied in a snarky tone, a sarcastic twist to her expression.

Natasha chuckled softly, “we’ve just had our first somewhat civil conversation and you’ve been held down this entire time.”

If there were ever an expression that screamed the word, ‘Fuck!’, it was the one Violet was wearing right now.

“Get off me,” Violet growled, resuming her struggles with renewed intensity.

“We will in a moment,” Natasha assured her, “but first we have some things we need to address-”

“The last few times you said that we barely discussed any of those ‘things’ you wanted talk about, and I end up tied to something and then unconscious.”

“Not always,” Natasha frowned, “other times we were interrupted.”

“Whatever,” Violet grumbled, “can I have one day where I don’t have rope or tape on any part of my body, please?”

Natasha glanced at James, who possessed a slight pleading look in his expression that meant he sided with Violet, and then sighed in minor defeat.

“Here’s the deal,” she started with a deep breath, “if you promise to hear us out, join us in a few _nonsexual_ activities today, and hold back your inevitable reaction to some of the things we need to reveal to you, then not only will we allow you to wander freely, you can also spend time with Peter today as well.”

“Peter-” Violet gasped, eyes finally opening wide as she renewed her struggles once again.

Natasha swooped in and cupped her face gently with both hands, gazing into those starry eyes with all the warmth they gave her. They left her speechless, unable to say a word as they pleaded with her, begging her to say that Peter was okay. Thankfully, James finally spoke up.

Leaning in to whisper in her ear, James assured her in his deep, gravelly voice. “Peter is fine. He has not been harmed and will not be harmed. He’s with Tony right now, who is going to be explaining much of the same things we are about to address to you.”

“What things?” Violet whispered, voice tight and breaking.

“Things that are going to overwhelm the pair of you should it be discovered any other way.” James breathed in Violet’s scent, exuding calming pheromones from his own scent to help her calm down. “We will explain everything, just breathe and steady your nerves. I know this is scary. I know you don’t trust us. I’m asking you . . . please give us the time to explain everything, and then you can see Peter and see for yourself.”

Violet breathing escalated quickly, “what did you do?”

“Nothing invasive,” James swore intensely, “nothing that harmed either of you.”

“You swear,” Violet asked in broken voice.

“I swear,” James responded just as fiercely.

All the while Natasha stared into those starry eyes as if she were an astronomer looking deep into the night sky. Even when they were staring into her own, Natasha gazed upon them like they were only things that existed in her world. They might as well have. Apart from the warm crimson in James, they were the only other set of eyes that truly mattered. The pads of her thumbs caressed her darling’s cheekbones, fighting the urge to lean in and press her lips against hers once more.

When they kissed for real, without confusion or deviance or some form of inebriation, Natasha was sure it would be the best moment of her life.

Violet panted beneath them, fighting to catch her breath amid the panic she was surely fighting. “If Peter’s hurt in any way-”

“Then we will face whatever punishment you see fit,” James interrupted softly, lips brushing her soft curls, “I promise.”

James and Natasha had their set roles for a reason. Natasha enjoyed talking, not nearly as much as Tony, but it was far easier for her to communicate and observe reactions than it was for James. James spoke more fluently through his actions though they were not always clear to understand, except for interrogations or romantic gestures. It was how they worked. Natasha, the mouthpiece and center of attention. James, the silent enforcer whose cold eyes watched and learned far more than anyone could imagine.

Strange how it seemed to flip where Violet was concerned.

The minute he made his promise to her, the tension in agile body lessened considerably. His words put her at ease while Natasha’s only made her more tense. It was an interesting conundrum Natasha couldn’t wait to investigate. Their darling always seemed to surprise them.

Then she surprised them once more when she said the most glorious word she’s ever spoken to them.

“Okay.”

_Vozlyublennaya – Sweetheart_

_Violet_

_Whereabouts Still Unknown_

Violet couldn’t catch a break.

She had no idea where Peter was, she woke up sandwiched between her kidnappers, and now she was sitting on the edge of the bed she just woke up in while Natasha rooted around in a luggage case set on a table near what had to be the exit while Bucky excused himself to the restroom where he left door open slightly. Violet suspected it was to keep an eye on her just in case she slipped by Natasha. Based on the state of the room alone, Violet wasn’t going to chance it.

If she knew anything, she knew that this was not Avengers tower.

For starters it was absolutely freezing. Violet didn’t mind it at all. If anything, she found it comforting as it reminded her of sleeping outside on park benches and the like before this whole mess started. Gave her something else to focus on other than her current predicament. Instead of the metal like substance of the tower, the walls were made of stone. Pure, misshapen, hand laid stone straight out of a medieval castle magazine or something. There was only one window, and the glass paneling appeared to have been recently installed. The bed was covered with animal pelt . . . scratch that, about three animal pelts made from what Violet guessed to be bears based on the length and thickness of the fur. Not a welcome sight considering her supreme soft spot for animals.

Did they have a time machine and decided to take her and Peter back to the Time of Vikings or something? If so, definite overkill, but also . . . not the worst thing that could happen. For Peter it definitely would because that meant no internet and no technology. For Violet, not really. She would miss cars though, and motorcycles most of all. And her friends at the Omega Protection Agency.

What happened to them anyway? Were they okay? Were they still trying to save Peter? She hoped so. If she couldn’t do it, then they would find a way.

An ‘Aha!’ sounded behind Violet, and then Natasha suddenly appeared with a stack of clothes and a satisfied grin on her face. Violet groaned at the sight, afraid of the selection she was given. Would it be skimp central where skin was on the breakfast menu or something far worse? She was afraid to find out.

“Don’t be like that,” Natasha tsked, handing her the stack, “now go ahead and get changed, we don’t have much time before breakfast and there are a few things we need to discuss before we head over.”

Violet took the stack with obvious reluctance. It had a hefty weight to it, so that was a good sign. Couldn’t be too skimpy or revealing if it had a weight to it like this . . . could it? Just glancing at it there didn’t seem to be any bold colors, mostly basics like black, grey, and white. At least it wasn’t another blue and gold combination.

Violet glanced up at Natasha before peering around the room, “where do I change?” There wasn’t a closet to protect herself from any potential ogling, and Bucky was in the bathroom doing who know what.

Natasha winked, “in here,” she responded in a particularly flirtatious tone.

Of course, she had to say it like that.

Violet bristled at Natasha’s teasing, “will you at least turn around? I’ve had enough ogling from you to last a lifetime.”

“We’ll see about that,” Natasha shot back, smirking that damn smirk before turning slowly until her back was to Violet.

Violet glanced back to the bathroom, considering whether she should ask Bucky for the same courtesy. Flashes from the previous night made her hold back her request. The Dagger Eyes of the soldier ogled her body scared the shit out of her with glee, but Bucky’s crimson eyes remained solely on hers. It was still scary, but only because of the intensity he wielded in forcing himself to . . . respect her boundaries? She really appreciated that. So, with a muted sigh, Violet stood to her feet and unraveled the bundle.

To be honest, it could be a lot worse.

The black she spotted in the bundle was a set of upscale overalls that were not made from denim. If Violet had to guess she would say a mixture of cotton, nylon, and possible acrylic fabrics, very similar to most jumpsuits people who valued fashion and style far more than Violet ever could wore for a living. There were also a pair of black biker shorts that were longer than the previous pair she wore the other night. Seamless white panties were laid on top of the shorts. Violet grimaced but moved on quickly, refusing to think about being naked on top of everything else. Next was a grey fisherman knitted sweater with a plain white cotton long sleeved shirt on top of it.

And thank god, there was a sports bra. Violet was terrified it’d be some fancy bralette or push up bra or some shit to make boobs more pronounced. She hated those things so much. It either left her itchy or overly exposed, and she really didn’t want to deal with that. If it were one of those options, Violet would have just gone braless. A new level of exposed and vulnerable, but she’d rather deal with that instead.

Glancing at Natasha, who’s back was still turned, and the bathroom door where Bucky was silent as the grave, Violet quickly started getting dressed. Starting with the top, ripping off the clothes and hastily replacing them with the bra and the white cotton shirt before moving to the bottoms. She had just pulled on the biker shorts when Natasha finally spoke up.

“May I turn back around? You might need some help with the pants.”

Violet glanced down at body, pleased with how covered she was, “sure.”

Never has Violet seen someone turn around as fast as Natasha did just then. One second her back was to her, the next her hands were on Violet’s shoulders and appraising what she had done. She swiftly turned back to the bed and held up the sweater for Violet to take. She grabbed the pants while Violet pulled on the sweater and kneeled before the Omega with a sultry gaze.

“Feet up,” Natasha spoke gently, but Violet didn’t miss it to be an order.

“I can do that just fine,” she retorted, a bit of steel in her tone.

“I know you can,” Natasha responded with equal gentleness, “but I’m going to do it for you.” She nodded to Violet’s feet, “feet up.”

Violet had the irresistible urge to follow through with that order by lifting them up . . . and kicking her in the face. It might give her a brief head start in booking it out of the room, but she still didn’t know where the Hell she was or where Peter could be. Kind of important things to know when attempting to escape a bunch of kidnappers. So, with an obvious roll of her eyes Violet did as Natasha asked, cringing internally when Natasha’s hands brushed her ankles before lifting the fabric.

With a flourish, Natasha finished tying the straps of the overalls and smiled brightly at Violet.

“Voila! Almost done.” Natasha winked as she gently pushed Violet back on the edge of the bed.

Violet glared incredulously at her. “What now?”

“. . . hair,” Natasha responded in a mocking tone, like it was supposed to be obvious or something. “I’m going to braid it back so we can see your lovely face.”

“For Christ’s sake I’m not a fucking doll,” Violet growled, attempting to stand back up and stare the alpha down.

No such luck.

Natasha stealthily climbed onto the bed without making a sound, kneeled behind Violet, and then grasped her shoulders before gently forcing her back down. Violet attempted to struggle her way free, but the Alpha wrapped her arms around Violet’s chest and pulled her in tight against her own. Lips kissed the back of Violet’s neck before finding their way to her ear.

“I know you’re not a doll. I know you’re not a puppet, a slave, a pet, or anything that you’ve heard and encountered while helping at the Omega House. I know you’re strong, capable, and resourceful beyond imagining. I’m not trying to diminish those facets of you because I think they’re wonderful, I just want to take care of you.”

Violet scoffed, “Dressing me and braiding my hair? That’s taking care of me?”

“Just be happy I’m not adding makeup,” Natasha giggled before kissing Violet’s cheek. “Now hold still.”

“Oh God,” Violet closed her eyes, trying to tune out everything so she didn’t lose her fucking mind.

Natasha had just started running her fingers through her hair when Bucky finally exited the bathroom. Violet couldn’t remember what he was wearing when he went in, but she certainly knew it wasn’t what he was wearing now. Black socks, dark jeans held up with a plain black belt, and no shirt. Violet fought to control her expression at the sight of his exposed abs. They looked like they came straight out of a blockbuster action movie. Clearly defined, water drops running down each indentation from his dripping hair he was currently towel drying.

That was a quick shower.

Violet quickly looked away, hating how her face got hot at the sight of him. _He helped kidnap you! Kidnappers are not hot! Especially Alpha kidnappers!_ She chastised herself while she noticed from the corner of her eye, he pulled on a red tank top, thankfully covering his movie star abs. He was pulling on another shirt over his head, a grey one she suspected to be a Henley shirt, when Natasha started talking once more.

“James, would you grab the plastic bands please? They’re in the carry on at the end of the table.” Natasha gestured with her hand in the general direction.

“I really doubt you’re going to be able to do anything with my hair,” Violet grated, hating this situation.

“Challenge accepted,” Natasha responded with glee, or as much glee one could convey with her sultry voice. “And while I’m taking on your challenge, we can get started on the topics at hand today.”

Fucking Hell.

James appeared seconds later multiple rubber band looking thingies, handing them to Natasha before kneeling on the ground at Violet’s feet, the intense crimson staring deep into her eyes as he pulled out a pair of socks and brandished them to her.

“I’m going to put these on you, okay?” Bucky asked softly, waiting for an answer before moving a muscle.

Well, at least he asked.

“Sure,” Violet grumbled, unsure of what else to do that didn’t lead to her committing some form of violence that would ultimately lead to some form of restraint and claustrophobia from being trapped in their grasp.

His lips quirked slightly before turning his attention to her feet.

“Let’s start with the most obvious, shall we?” Natasha stated from behind Violet, separating her hair down the middle and using the bands to keep one half bound while the other flowed freely. Bucky unrolled the first sock and swiftly placed it on her right foot.

“I’m not in Kansas in anymore?” Violet retorted sarcastically, “Toto and I have been transported to the Land of Oz: Viking Edition?”

“Very good Dorothy Gale,” Natasha pulled at the strands near her forehead, beginning the first braid, “you’re not far off the mark.”

“If that’s the case I’d rather see it to believe it than just letting you tell me. I’m more of a visual person.” Or in other words, foolishly delay the inevitable shock.

“So was doubting Thomas,” Natasha shot back, her smile clear in her amused tone, “in that case we can move onto the next order of business.”

“Which is what exactly?”

“Your next heat and any boundaries you would like to place.” Bucky cut in, pulling on the other sock as he did. “We also want to know what you’ve done during your past heats so that we know what to expect and how we can help.”

Violet’s blood ran cold. Were they fucking serious about this?!

“Like I said last time, neither of you are allowed to be part of it, and didn’t you say Peter and Wanda were supposed to be privy to this fucked up conversation too?”

“They are,” Bucky turned his crimson gaze back to Violet, slowly reaching out his hands to grasp hers, a motion that clearly stated she could stop him at any time. “I was hoping we could get your side of it first before we considered their opinions.”

“Well you got it,” Violet shrugged, pulling her hands away from his advance and crossing her arms in front of her, “now back off.”

He nodded slightly, pulling his hands back but stayed kneeling on the ground, staring up at her with that same intensity. “Will you at least tell me what you do during your heats so we can provide you with-”

“I don’t do anything.” Violet bluntly interrupted him.

The crimson eyes widened slightly in surprise, confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t do anything,” Violet reiterated with a shrug.

Now his brow furrowed in concern, mouth opening and closing in quick, tiny spurts. Natasha paused in her braiding.

“Nothing?” She asked from above, “you don’t do anything during your heats?”

Violet shrugged, “aside from going to the hospital, getting a shot morphine, and locking myself in an easily cleaned room for three days, I don’t do anything.”

Silence. Deafening silence preceded Violet’s comment and it left her extremely wary of what was to come. Sure enough, the next question was not something she wanted to answer.

“Does Wanda know about this?”

Violet tensed up, knowing without a doubt that they were going to tell on her. “No, and I don’t want her to know.”

“Why?” Bucky demanded in an equally blunt tone.

“She’s stressed enough as it is, and quite frankly I don’t need to justify that to you. Either of you.” She reiterated to ensure Natasha knew she meant them both.

Another beat of silence. Bucky looked particularly tense, jaw clenching slightly before asking, “in those three days, what do you do?”

Another shrug, “wait for it to end.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?” He pressed. Jaw clenching, voice tightening dangerously.

Violet nodded, “like giving birth to a fully grown seven-foot man, but if I do anything it’s like giving birth to Godzilla in his prime.” Her body flinched at the memory. “Not fun.”

Bucky’s jaw snapped shut, intensity growing astronomically in those crimson eyes. Violet feared if he got even slightly angrier, then the dagger like grey would start slicing through the thick red and take over, leaving Bucky behind and pushing the Soldier forward. That would really suck.

“How long has it been like that?” Bucky stiffly asked while Natasha quickly finished the first braid and moved onto the second one.

Violet thought about that, “Since I was 14. Started getting really bad around midspring, and then the start of Summer it was like this ever since.”

“And no one’s ever been there to help you?”

Violet glared at him, “why would I force someone to listen to me scream nonstop for three days straight, all the while knowing there was nothing they could do to ease my pain and help me through it?”

“How do you know they couldn’t?”

“Because Claire, the nurse that gives me my morphine shot, tried to help me and it only made things worse.” Violet cursed herself for naming Claire, but she was frustrated and really wanting to avoid this line of questioning before it got even more embarrassing and revealing. “We tried everything to help with the pain, and all we came up with is the morphine shot right around the heat starts. The first day is always the worst so it made the most sense. Get the shot, coast through the first day, endure the other two, then go take a shower and eat takeout at Peter’s. Pretty simple.” Violet finished with another shrug.

Based on Bucky’s expression, it was not that simple.

“Well,” Natasha spoke up before Bucky had the chance to, “if it’s alright with the pair of you, I believe we should put a hold on this conversation until both Peter and Wanda can add their opinions and potential different avenues we can take during your next heat.”

“Which neither of you will be part of.” Violet reiterated in growling tone.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Natasha insisted, nearly done with the final braid based on where she was pulling hair from Violet’s scalp. She had to give the woman credit; she was incredibly quick with her work. It could mean it was going to be a major shit show or look miraculously good. Violet wouldn’t comment on either result, opting to just fix it if it was bad or let it be if it was good. Sweet and simple.

Bucky let out a frustrated grunt, but nothing else followed. Violet just rolled her eyes, desperately wishing this was all just a coma dream from a bad fight she got into because she was really drunk. That would make a hell of lot more sense than this bullshit.

“And voila!” Natasha finished tying the end of the final braid, standing from the bed to get a good look at Violet who gave her a particularly disgruntled expression. “You look great! I absolutely love your curls, but I must admit I prefer this look for you. Your face is far too exquisite to hide behind that mane of hair.”

Violet just glared at her, unsure of the best response.

“Now I’m going to leave you two alone so I can get changed, try not to get too comfortable because we’re going to breakfast after this.” Natasha winked at Violet before leaning down and kissing Bucky. Then she headed towards the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

And Violet and Bucky were alone.

They stared at one another, unsure of what to say of if to say anything at all. This was the first time either of them could recall actually being alone with the other. The first time they met face to face was when she threw a brick at his head and dozens of people were around, then again later that night, but Natasha was there. The next few times were the same. Then there was the motorcycle chase scene where she was attempting to rescue Peter and ended up pointing a taser at him while completely missing Kilgrave until it was too late. Then not only was Natasha but Steve as well were with them. Then the Soldier plagued him and nearly ruined everything by hurting her.

This was truly the first time they were alone together.

Violet was afraid of how this moment would turn out. What would he ask her? Would he keep pressing about her heats? Would he jump onto her and have his way with her? Completely negating the previous shows of restraint that shocked that hell out of her. Would he-

“Who taught you how to shoot?” He asked suddenly, blatantly trying to calm his nerves and ease his intense expression.

Violet blinked, not expecting that question at all. “Um, Frank did.”

Bucky nodded; the answer expected. “Why did he teach you?”

Stunned, Violet couldn’t stop herself from answering. “A movie. _Prisoners_ starring Jake Gyllenhaal and Hugh Jackman. A couple of kids got kidnapped at the beginning of the movie. They were all eventually found, but the guy who everyone expected to be the villain ended up being a kidnapped kid too. Forced to live with his captor for years and years. Walking her dog, getting her groceries, taking care of her.” Violet flinched, realizing she was drawing a similar parallel to her current situation. “Scared the crap out of me, so he gave me a reason not to be. Fat lot of good it did.” She gestured to him, biting her cheek in anger.

“He taught you well,” Bucky leaned forward slightly, taking a breath as he did. “You’re not going to meet the same fate as that little boy.”

“Why? Are you going to let both of us go?”

Bucky sighed, “no I’m not.”

“Then there’s no point to your false assurances other than wasting your breath and testing my already dwindling patience.”

“You’re not weak Violet,” Bucky pressed, “if you were you never would have outrun Natasha. Never would have escaped the both of us, especially more than once.”

“What’s your point?”

“Someone like you could never meet the same fate as that little boy.” Bucky’s lips quirked slightly, “someone so driven and brave and intelligent as you could never be so vulnerable to manipulative tactics like that. You’re far too stubborn.”

“What is my fate then?” Violet shot back angrily, “to wear a collar and live in a fancy cage while I wait for you or Natasha to call and then be used at your leisure-”

“What’s rule number 1?” Bucky interrupted, a deep fissure between his brow and an angry set to his mouth.

Violet flinched at the sudden change, “what?”

“What’s rule number 1?” He repeated, tone steely and unyielding.

Violet’s chest constricted, feeling like she crossed a line she didn’t know was there. She thought back, rolling through a list of memories that he could possibly be referring too. When they hell did they talk about rules? It took her a solid few seconds to remember, Bucky remaining resolutely silent as she searched her brain.

Then she remembered their brief conversation in the Med Bay. How long ago was that? Days? A week? Oh God, a month?! No, it couldn’t be a month . . . could it?

“No derogatory comments,” Violet started, carefully studying his expression as she reluctantly continued, “about myself?”

Bucky gave her a firm nod, “you’re our chosen, Violet. Not a pet to lock away and mistreat. Not a slave to do our bidding and suffer our abuse.” He slowly reached out to grab her shoulders, and this time she didn’t pull back. He exhaled in relief when his fingers latched into her sweater. “Not a doll or a toy to display to the world then use at our leisure.” He bared his teeth slightly at that comment. “You are the one we choose to spend the rest of our lives with. To love, to cherish, to provide for, to worship if you would allow us, and to give the whole world too.”

Bucky stood up only to sit next to her on the bed, staring imploring with those crimson eyes. Violet fought to keep her breathing steady, but her uncontrollable heart punched a whole through her chest repeatedly never ceasing its cruel onslaught. The difference in temperature from his hands startled her, throwing her into a daze as he continued.

“I know why you believe such horrible things about Alphas, and rightfully so. What we did to Billy was heinous, vile, and unforgiveable. The fact you had to watch it makes it even worse. We had our reasons that I don’t know if you’re fully ready to hear just yet, but it doesn’t make up for what we did, for what your life turned into because of our actions.” He stopped, taking a breath to steady himself. His human hand moved from her shoulder to caress her burning cheek, and once again she didn’t stop him. “But I don’t ever want you to believe that we would treat you, our chosen, in that way. We’d die a thousand times, endure all the punishments we’ve dealt over the years a thousand and more times, before we’d ever do that to you.” He leaned in slightly, crimson gazing deep into her. “Please believe me, Violet.”

With a heavy heart, an aching chest, and a trembling body, Violet bravely asked, “What do you want from me?”

Bucky opened his mouth to speak once more, but the sultry and dulcet tones of Natasha’s voice interrupted.

“When you are ready, you will know.”

Violet flinched, pulling away from Bucky to turn and face Natasha at the bathroom opening where she leaned against the threshold. She dressed simply too. Burgundy leggings, grey long-sleeved shirt with a swooped neckline revealing the black strap of her bra. She wore thick grey thermal socks, just like Violet was wearing.

With a startling realization, Violet realized they all almost . . . matched. Was this Natasha’s doing? Did she do this on purpose? Violet was too perplexed to find out.

“Until then, let’s focus on the here and now. And now we all need to go get some breakfast.”

Natasha left her spot leaning against the threshold of the bathroom entrance and sauntered over to the exit. Opening the door with a flourish, she turned back to face Violet, waiting for her choice. Violet didn’t even hesitate. The moment the door opened she was on her feet and practically racing through the door.

Anything to get away from the emotions that rolled through her during impassioned speech. Emotions Violet doubted she’s ever felt before, especially for someone she only knew because they kickstarted 80% of the trauma she’s endured throughout her life. What is wrong with her?! What is even happening anymore?!

She had a terrible feeling that she was about to find out.

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Fpin%2F764767580448434219%2F&psig=AOvVaw3G1B_jspUCszX_RX1FhYxs&ust=1583192879665000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCNiX-LO7-ucCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAQ)

This is what Natasha did to Violet's hair, and it is that short but also blue. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you guys think?! The first somewhat civil conversation between Violet and the Alphas has occurred! How do you think it played out? What do you think will happen next? Will they meet anyone at breakfast? Should I check in with Peter and see how he's holding up? How do you think the pair of them are going to react when they find out they're in Oslo, Norway?


	7. Would

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's happening with Peter? . . . Or should I ask what's happening to Peter? *hiding in the corner* I'm sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter chapter and it's kind of rushed. I'm not totally happy with it but I do hope you guys enjoy it. It might be a little confusing by the end but rest assured that some of the stuff that happened in the chapter will be explained in the next one. Please enjoy! :D

Chapter 6

Would

_Peter Parker_

_Whereabouts Also Unknown_

Peter was having the most wonderful dream.

He and Violet were at Central Park. He was working on his experiment while she played her guitar and sang “Would” by Alice in Chains, one of the first songs Frank taught her to play. She made that song her bitch, never once missing a note and adding her own style to it in the process. Peter’s experiment was creating his own A.I., something he’s been wanting to do for a long time now. He was going to name her Karen after his first-grade teacher. She was the first person to encourage his love of science and he figured it was a good way to honor her.

The sun was bright, the heat a reasonable 76 degrees, and the wind was brisk. Everything was so beautiful, so amazing and sweet. Peter never wanted it to end.

The people who walked by weren’t in a hurry, they didn’t wear disgruntled faces, and they didn’t seem angry or sad. Everyone took their time, wore smiles that weren’t forced, and just wanted to be alive. It made Peter feel good seeing the world filled with hope and contentment instead of darkness that drives everyone crazy.

Especially his sister.

Violet hid it well, but Peter could see how worn out she was all the time. How stressed and run down she got when her job at Nelson and Murdock, the hollow look in her sky-blue eyes they took on when dropping by his apartment after a particularly rough night at the Omega House. Peter’s only ever stopped by to hang out with his friends, rarely going upstairs where the survivors resided. The times he did venture upstairs gave him nightmares, and he understood where the hollow look came from. He wished he had the nerve and the drive to help them, but he wasn’t that type of person. He lacked the gumption it took to be part of something so draining, so he did what little he could do and praised his sister at every opportunity.

It’s been so long since they spent the day together without stress or worry clouding their good mood. Maybe that’s why he was dreaming about it now? If so, Peter was grateful for it. He’d relive this moment a thousand times if he could, and for now it seemed like a viable option. Listening to her play and sing with a smile, working on his A.I., and the smell of Aunt May’s cherry pie in the air was Peter’s perfect day.

 _Into the flood again, same old trip it was back then,_ Violet sang wholeheartedly. Leaning into the raspiness of her normally smooth tone and moving her shoulders to the beat she set, really getting into the song. She grinned and shook her head at Peter who applauded like a proud parent at an honorary ceremony. He couldn’t help it; she deserved all the praise in the world, and he was more than determined to give it to her.

A golden halo suddenly appeared over her head, and it just made the image even better. Like an angel born from the light of a star. Peter’s laptop started glowing as well, the numbers on the screen vibrating in time with the song she played, like they were dancing along with her. Peter joined in happily, savoring the moment for as long as he could.

Which wasn’t much longer.

Just as Violet made it to the bridge of the song, Peter started feeling a wave of arousal roll through his body, confusing him to no end. He was having a good time, loving this wonderful dream his mind gave him, but he wasn’t having that much of a good time. What was going on?

Violet stopped playing, the numbers on his screen vibrated with more intensity. No longer dancing with her song but shaking with fear. Or perhaps the cold? The temperature from it’s wonderful 76 degrees to a near arctic chill in seconds. Clouds rushed through the sky and took away the light. Thunder roared; lightning shot through the dark.

“Violet?” Peter reached out to touch her, desperately needing her warmth and protection only to find her gone.

Everyone was gone, and the arousal grew astronomically.

His laptop dropped from his grip, shattering as it fell to the pavement. The sound was so loud, a booming sound that reverberated in Peter’s ears. He covered them with his hands, sinking to the ground and falling on the shattered. The cold dangerously bit into him, the arousal overtaking him, warring emotions fought for control over which reaction to take. Lust or fear?

Fear won out.

The wonderful scene before him turned into a nightmare, a nightmare his brain only could have conjured up because he’s seen it before. He was no longer in central park. He was in a cold and barren warehouse writhing on the floor. Heart pounding fast and hard, almost crushing his chest for the effort. Body shaking wildly from the cold temperature in the room and freezing him to his core, and the arousal that grew more and more intense with each beat of his heart. Eyes searched wildly, catching so many blurring figures and tuning out their pounding voices. He was searching for one face, listening out for one voice.

And then he heard it.

“You have shitty aim,” her warm and comforting voice stated in a shaky, worn out tone. It was wrong, so wrong to hear her sound so weak and vulnerable. Violet was always so strong, unbelievably resilient and steadfast to everything that came their way. Peter finally saw her face, watched the fire in those sky-blue eyes burn as she pointed her gun at Kilgrave. He watched the blood pore through her fingers putting pressure on the wound, how pale her skin quickly became. He watched those eyes suddenly close, watched in frozen horror as she collapsed to the ground, the gun skittering across the paved floor.

He remembered his terrible scream, how loud and piercing it was, but he couldn’t scream now. He was paralyzed. Completely and utterly paralyzed by the fear that overtook him, and the arousal leaving him breathless and vulnerable. He felt hands on him, whispers in his ear as everything faded away, faded to black and took him elsewhere. The hands went from his shoulders, to his face, to his chest, and then-

“ **Wake up, Peter. Wake up for your Alpha.** ” A dark, sardonic voice commanded sweetly.

Peter’s eyes shot open, putting an end to the terrible memory once and for all. The room was dark and very, very cold. So cold he could see his breath. His whole torso was bare, no shirt or blanket offering it protection, just vulnerable to freezing temperature.

And the wandering hands skimming down his happy trail to a destination Peter desperately didn’t want them to visit.

He tried stopping those hands, forcing them away by any means necessary. Shoving them, slapping them, kicking off the blanket and jumping out of bed, but there was no use. The moment he started flailing, a warm and heavy weight crushed him, trapping him against the bed and keeping him in place. Peter tried fighting it as well, but it was too heavy. He was too heavy.

With a wave of horror he’d never thought he would feel towards him, Peter utterly panicked when his eyes landed on Tony’s smiling face.

“Hey baby. Did you sleep well?” Tony sniffed, blood red eyes drooping in ecstasy. "Ready to become my Omega?"

_Violet_

_In the Castle_

Yep, she was definitely not in New York City anymore. Based on the layout and rough stonelike structure, she thought it was fair to assume she wasn’t even on the same continent anymore. Logically, Europe made the most sense due to the cold climate and the snow she saw falling through the windows along with the architectural similarities to a lot of the haunted Europe shows Wanda and Karen have roped her into watching for their own version of Omega nights. She was really hoping it would be England where she could still understand the language while desperately trying to maintain a British accent while she and Peter escaped.

With her luck, they were deep in the heart of Mother Russia where the only escape vehicle around was a mule and the cart it pulled. The image of her and Peter trying to escape on that thing made her want to both laugh and cry. Laugh because of the ridiculousness of the antics they would pull to steal the damn thing. Cry because of the obvious desperation and inevitable failure.

Bucky and Natasha walked on either side of her, only inches away from touching her. She kept her arms crossed so they wouldn’t attempt to grab her hands. She’s been through more than enough emotional turmoil this morning alone and without a doubt would have to face more over breakfast. Allowing herself to go through even more by letting them think they could hold her hand was borderline masochism. And Violet was not a masochist. She might be reckless, stubborn, and a tad idiotic, but a masochist she was not.

So, hands tucked away until further notice.

She glanced on the plethora of ancient symbols decoratively hung along the walls, coats of arms and all that jazz, but she didn’t pay it much mind. Her eyes were glancing for exits, cameras, and potential shortcuts she could use to lose her captors in a pinch. She was also looking for Wanda. She wanted to apologize for tying her up and putting tape over her mouth, a horrible thing to do to anyone in general but for Wanda it was triply worse because of all the shit she’s been through. That being said, she also wanted to wring Wanda’s neck for playing into the Avengers bullshit. She remembered how googly eyed she got over Jarvis, the way they fawned over one another like two lovebirds sharing a birdbath. It was sickening. It was disturbing.

It was scary.

If they were already like that, then Jarvis could convince her to side with Bucky and Natasha when it came to Violet’s heat. Which meant Peter was all she had to back her, and she feared his support simply wouldn’t be enough. On numbers alone, they not only surrounded, they were also outgunned and outmatched. To put it simply, if Wanda didn’t side with her, she and Peter were fucked.

And when their heat started, that could mean literally.

Bucky and Natasha had just led Violet into a big room, the biggest room she’s seen so far, when there was suddenly a crash followed by a high-pitched scream coming from behind them.

It was Peter’s scream.

_Peter_

“Don’t touch me!” Peter shouted, crawling backwards with extraordinary speed from the dark, advancing figure that was his Alpha. Blood red eyes seemed to swallow his entire face, leaving Peter a terrified, fleeing mess on the ground. Though Tony, or in truth the Alpha part of him, had Peter pinned to the bed, he didn’t take his hands into account. Peter was able to reach out and slam hard into the side of Tony’s head, enabling Peter to wiggle out beneath the Alpha’s crushing weight.

“Don’t be like that,” the Alpha, a cruel smile on face, eyes moving down to Peter’s groin. “I know you want to. I felt it, remember?”

He did, with every bit of shame he could muster he felt it. Peter should never have found what Tony did pleasurable. It was assault. Straight up assault that Violet would have hunted him down and threw him in jail for if he were any other Alpha. He continued crawling away, yelping when his back encountered the freezing brick wall, the sudden temperature and texture shocking Peter to his senses, helping him regain his focus. He looked around the room, searching for anything that could help him.

“I do remember,” Peter admitted, hoping to stall for time. He bent his head, feigning submission while looking for the exit.

The Alpha made a pleased sound, blood dripping down his chest and plopping onto the floor. He took slow, purposeful steps towards the Omega, taking his sweet time. Not a good sign. Peter had no idea where he was, or if there was anyone even nearby. He didn’t see any other weapons he could use, and he could see if there was a door from his position on the ground.

He was stuck, but he wasn’t totally helpless.

With a steadying breath, Peter bravely looked into those blood red eyes. “I remember it perfectly.”

Tony smiled, still ambling towards him with smug satisfaction, only to stop in shock at something he simply wasn’t expecting.

Peter screaming.

Full on scary movie, blood curling, _help me I’m dying,_ type of scream that left innocent children with nightmares for years, teenagers the heeby jeebies for days, and adults shivers upon shivers for hours until they fell into a blissful sleep. Peter screamed and he screamed, body tensed and shaking like a bomb about to explode. He screamed and he screamed, expecting the worst and hoping for the best.

Luckily for him, he got the best.

Just as Tony’s hands went into his hair, clawing at scalp and pulling at the roots to get the Omega to his feet, the door slammed open like the bang from a shotgun.

“Get the fuck away from him!” Sounded from the doorway, and Peter didn’t need his eyes to know that Violet had come to rescue him, but he was sure thankful he had them.

Like an avenging, blue haired angel crashing down from heaven, Violet soared into the room and tackled the Alpha to the ground. Peter stayed standing, his neck straining as Tony fell to the ground and being forced to lose his grip on Peter’s hair. As soon as they landed, Violet started punching Tony in the face. Screaming insult after insult, name after name as she did.

“Piece of shit!” “Alpha scum!” “Fucking rapist!” and more and more as she pummeled the Alpha into the ground. Tony tried to fight back, attempting to capture her hands and put an end to it, but she was too quick. Her attacks fast and swift, making her unstoppable. Peter was pleased to watch it, but only for a second.

No matter how much Tony deserved this, there was no way Violet should be the one meeting out justice. She wasn’t a pacifist, she got into fights all the time, but this wasn’t just a run of the mill fight. This was darker, uncontrolled, and not his pseudo sister at all. Peter felt the urge to stop her, to pull her back before she crossed the line.

As it turns out, he didn’t have too.

James Barnes and Natasha Romanoff practically flew into the room and immediately went to Violet. Mr. Barnes wrapped his arms around her flailing body, stopping her attack instantly as he lifted her into the air. Ms. Romanoff straddled Tony and restrained him to the ground. His face was wild, red and bruised from Violet’s onslaught, teeth bared as he screamed unintelligibly at Violet.

Peter didn’t move, frozen and paralyzed in shock and fear.

“Get both of them out of here.” Ms. Romanoff ordered from her position.

Peter didn’t see who it was, but a cold hand reached out to grab Peter’s arm and pulled gently. He went willingly, suddenly not seeing anything. How did this happen? Why would this happen?

He pondered and pondered those two questions, suddenly feeling so lost and defeated amid the chaos that just occurred. Was this, that thing the real Tony? Was he just waiting to get Peter alone so he could have his way with him the way Violet always warned him about with all the other Alphas in the world? Was everything Peter thought he felt for the man all just a lie?

He felt his body move, saw the walls and people in the area without really seeing them. It was until he was directed to sit down on something soft and warm that he finally recognized someone, finally heard what she was saying.

Violet.

Her hands, bloody and slightly bruised, were held out gingerly. Sky-blue eyes wide and gentle. Her tone soft and comforting.

“Peter, is it okay if I hug you?”

Not for the first time, Peter wished he was straight. He had no doubt they’d be married and rescuing animals left and right if they were. “You’re the only person who never has too ask.”

Her lips quirked slightly, “well I’m going to anyway.”

Peter smiled slightly, “I know, it’s why I love you.”

Her bottom lip trembled slightly, “I love you too, Peter.”

He breathed in a shaky breath, a single tear falling down his cheek, “thank you for being my sister.”

She leaned forward, gently enveloping him in the safest place he’ll ever know, “thank you for being my brother.”

And as they held one another, they both silently cried. Peter’s tears were from shock and trauma. Violet’s tears were from failure and impending revenge.

No one hurts her brother and gets away with it.

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.wattpad.com%2F635450647-independent-peter-parker%2527s-little-sister-twenty&psig=AOvVaw3wIMa2ig0NDkfAzrfXNv8L&ust=1583466060839000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCJCZtfq0gugCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAD)

(When he says thank you to Violet)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm so sorry :(. I hated doing that to Peter, but it's something that needed to happen so that certain things I want to happen in the future can still occur. Hope you don't hate me too much. Next chapter will most certainly involve some consoling and brighter moments, Peter and Violet looking back and remembering better times to help deal with the situation of what's happening now. Alphas will do damage control where they are concerned, but not the Alphas you might think. Also, a certain merc with a mouth might just turn up for some question ;) ;) ;) stay tuned! I hoped you guys enjoyed the chapter! Please leave a comment and let me know what you think!


	8. Hold On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James faces the aftermath, Peter and Violet meet someone new, and Deadpool is . . . Deadpool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little weird, and there is a bit of smut but not much and not in the way you're expecting. Something pretty bad happens so be forewarned, and please don't hate me too much. I hope you guys enjoy! Have a great day!

Chapter 7

Hold On

_Bucky and Natasha_

Omegas were not the only ones severely impacted by their biology. They had their heats, dangerous events that leave them weak and vulnerable to anyone and everyone who crosses them during that time. Alphas, on the other hand, had their ruts. They too left Alphas in an extremely vulnerable position, though not in the same way as Omegas. They lost their focus, their ambition, depleting all sense of autonomy, individuality, and morality until there was nothing left but the need to fulfill their baser instinct.

Breed.

The one similarity heats and ruts had in common was that they have the absolute worst fucking timing. Such is the case with Tony. The idiot wasn’t careful, accidentally on purpose forgetting to take his own form of suppressants so his rut wouldn’t land him in hot water with the new Omegas, and now they were absolutely fucking sunk. Peter was traumatized, Violet had yet another reason to hate them and undoubtedly tripling her efforts to escape them, and now they had to find a way to ease Tony through his rut before it got out of hand and he attempt to rape Peter or hurt Violet once more.

What a complete and utter shit show.

James was at his wits end, punching through the stone wall every five seconds or so just to calm his nerves. His first attempt at a heart to heart with his chosen and now it was up in flames. No way would Violet even look at him now without hatred burning deep into those starry eyes. He deserved it, they all deserved it, and they were going to get it.

Natasha was currently indisposed dealing with Tony, no doubt tying him to the nearest unbreakable surface in his room and pumping him full of prescribed sedatives Dr. Cho gave him to lessen the intensity of his ruts. Steve was running damage control which meant leading the rest of the team and sending the Guardians on bullshit assignments while simultaneously informing them on the situation. Clint was still messed up and mostly talking to Laura and Coulson (his mates) to help him get through his injury. He thought the rest of the Avengers didn’t know, but James couldn’t help but listen in, a petulant yet special contribution from the torture he endured during his time as HYDRA’s captive. James was designed to be the most efficient assassin alive. Eavesdropping was part of the job description. If worst comes to shove, Clint could babysit (chosen-sit) while the rest deal with Tony and his rut while making sure that their rut wasn’t going to put them in a similar situation by taking their suppressants and calling it a day.

Jarvis was too busy with Wanda to be bothered with. The Guardians were no help with their foolish and predictably idiotic antics. Banner wasn’t here yet because they took a detour in Paris to spend time with themselves and the new baby. Clint was still fucked up and indisposed furthermore because of the injury he sustained during their sudden plane crash, leaving him for babysitting/informing duty. Thor was too busy making sure Loki didn’t do anything to scare off the new chosens while simultaneously fending off restless and feisty reporters fighting to get news on Loki’s new stalker and keeping his mysterious new guests under wraps.

Which left James of all people holding the bag and fighting to keep everything under control. Natasha would do a far better job than he ever could. Why wasn’t she up here dealing with this shit? Anyone can get Tony’s rocks off during his rut. James didn’t mind saying a few slutty words while Tony jerked off and came over and over until his rut was finally over and done with. Natasha would do a far better job than he ever could.

Yet she was there, and he was here. What the fuck did that mean?! He’d have to ask her later.

“Mr. Barnes?” FRIDAY’s voice buzzed in his pocket. The castle was too old and outdated, which meant no cameras or speakers of any kind for FRIDAY to communicate through, so phones and other audio devices they each had on them were her go to. “Would you like a status report on Peter and Violet?”

“Yes please,” James grunted, pulling out his phone to hear FRIDAY better.

He was delighted to see she had already sent him a video. He and Natasha set up nondescript cameras FRIDAY could use to keep an eye on Violet in moments like these. Moments where he and Natasha had to handle something and she was in the room alone, or in this case hiding away and cuddling with Peter. He shook his head slightly at the pair of them cuddled up together. Natasha was not going to be pleased that Violet gave some of her clothes to the boy when she specifically picked them out for her. It was one of Natasha’s kinks, something that played into her need for control, and it didn’t only pertain to Violet. James had to endure his fair share of specially chosen outfits and styled hair, but thankfully each time was only for a special occasion.

He had no doubt that kink was going to get a hell of a lot worse now that Violet was officially in their lives.

He didn’t like that Violet had given the boy all the warmest clothes she had on her person, but it didn’t surprise him in the least. It was just the type of person she was. Gold hearts like hers tend to suffer from selfless acts just as much as they do from the cruelty of the world. It came as no surprise she had known suffering.

But not in a million years would he have guessed the depths in which that suffering delved too.

The news of her past heats and what she had to do in order to endure them broke his heart. She never should have been forced to deal with that alone. Should never have to feel the pain she so harshly described. James wanted to rectify it, to put an end to that pain and gift her with peace and pleasure. But how though? How could he fix it without going against her wishes?

He needed help, and there was one Omega in this castle who would. 

Keeping an eye on the video, James left his perch outside of Tony and Peter’s room and went in search of Wanda. Along the way he passed by an open door and unfortunately peeked in. It was Steve’s room, and from the looks of it, Darcy’s punishment was still going strong. Good. He hoped it almost killed her, just like her drugs almost killed his Violet.

She was on her knees, dressed in latex, and bound to the floor in every way imaginable. She wore a blindfold, a spider-gag, and currently blowing a dildo strapped to the wall while fucking herself with the dildo between her legs. James nodded in approval. He knew this punishment well, he and Natasha both enduring such punishment for experimental purposes once or twice but it never came across as such for either of them. It just turned them on even more. What made it a true punishment was the Alpha ordering the Omega to blow the dildo until it cums, and until it does the Omega couldn’t cum. The order was always given in the alpha tone meaning the body itself had to follow the order as well.

The truest form of torture where an Omega was concerned is to keep them from pleasing their Alpha. Based on the whimpers and sobs emanating around the dildo, Darcy was certainly suffering. Without an inkling of sympathy, James turned away and headed towards Jarvis’s room.

He passed Steve along the way talking to a particularly disgruntled Rocket over the phone. He was sitting at the bar counter, pouring over a stack of papers that he quickly pushed away at the sight of James. Must be working on a new picture. Steve always got shifty when he was working on art, and not even James could get him to reveal what it was unless Steve thought it was worth seeing. Sadly, not all his pieces were seen by others. James decided to stop and pat his brother on the back before moving along.

“Good choice in punishment,” he praised, “how much longer?”

Steve shrugged, already knowing what his brother was referring too, “until the command wears off.”

Cold. “That could be days.”

Steve gave James an intense look, “she broke the rules. Brought drugs into the tower, dosed a Chosen’s drink and nearly killed her, harmed an Alpha, talked back to an Alpha, had the gall to think she wouldn’t get punished for it, and drank when I explicitly told her not too. She can suffer.”

James cocked his head, lips quirking upward, “you’re done with her. Aren’t you?”

Steve sighed, ignoring the yells from Rocket over the phone, “guess it’s a good thing we never made it official.”

“I’m glad you listened when I told you to wait,” James clasped his brother’s shoulder, “she’s far too outlandish, too flighty. You need someone more grounded. Someone who doesn’t drink to ignore the fear and then cower away but stands firm and faces it head on. Just like you.”

“Not many people are like me, Buck. It’s like looking for a specific fish in an ocean full of sharks.”

“You’ll find them,” James squeezed his shoulder, “make sure to tell Tony once he’s not rutted and fucked up. He’ll make sure Darcy is disposed of, that is if her punishment doesn’t do it for you.”

“Will do,” Steve gave him a brief smile, “thanks Buck.”

James nodded before walking away, completely missing the stray piece of paper Steve had quickly shoved away at the sight of his dear brother into his notebook before turning back to his loud conversation with Rocket from the Guardians. A piece of paper he’s been working on since before they came to Norway. A piece of paper Steve hoped no one would ever see.

A paper adorned with Violet’s fierce face, blazing starry eyes shining fiercely through the page with an intense glare that made Steve smile.

_Peter and Violet_

“Remember the time we climbed the cyclone?” Violet asked suddenly, pausing just for a second in petting Peter’s chocolatey locks to look into his equally chocolate doe eyes.

He smiled, nudging her hand to continue her wonderful petting, “of course I do. It’s the first time we drank together.”

Violet nodded, weaving her fingers through Peter’s hair once more. “And Jessica bet I couldn’t do it without getting caught.”

“Yeah,” Peter chuckled, “and you told her ‘ _we’ll see about that_ ’ before chugging three shots of rum, throwing her the bottle, and then running towards it like a Viking charging into battle awaiting to enter Valhalla.”

“And you came barreling after me. ‘ _Wait for me_!’” Violet laughed, the movement jostling Peter’s head slightly as it rested on her chest. He didn’t mind. He liked feeling her laughter.

“Then once we were at the top, we pretended to be Jack and Rose on the Titanic, overlooking the city and talking about all the things we want to do before we die.” Peter smiled, tightening his hold around her waist and relaxing even more. “You held onto me, close and tight, and not even for a second did I fear I was going to fall.”

“How about a millisecond?” Violet cut in, a sarcastic gleam to her eyes.

Peter lightly pinched her arm, smiling as she laughed once more, “Not even that.” Peter took a breath, sinking deep into her embrace, “you’d never let me fall.”

“Damn right I wouldn’t,” she promised, squeezing him tight as she continued petting his hair. “I’d die before I ever let you fall.”

Peter sighed, “that was the scariest part.”

Violet froze, fingers no longer moving through his soft hair. “What do you mean?”

“What happened earlier,” Peter swallowed, taking another breath before continuing, “with Tony.”

“Are you sure you want to talk about that right now?” Violet asked, adjusting her body so she and Peter could see one another more clearly. “You know you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I know, but I need to.” He turned slightly, moving so he leaned on his arm and faced her completely. “I need you to know.”

“Know what?”

Peter sighed, “what Tony tried to do has happened to me before. Not to the same extent, but it’s happened.”

Violet’s eyes grew dark, jaw tensing at the memory, “I remember you telling me about that. Skip, right? Skip Westcott?”

“My camp counselor,” Peter concluded, “I was about 8 when he touched me. I couldn’t stop him because I didn’t know what was going on. He kept saying it was okay, that he’d take care of me and everything would be alright. I trusted him, but nothing felt right. I felt dirty and gross. When he wanted to do more, I ran off and hid in the woods until morning, then I called Aunt May to come pick me up.” He paused, voice breaking slightly. “For years I couldn’t get rid of that gross feeling. Accepting that it was just part of me now and I would have to live with it. I thought that gross feeling was the reason no one wanted to be my friend. Why I presented as an Omega instead of a Beta. I thought it made me worthless and unlovable.”

The first tear fell as he continued, this time with a smile. “I went to that park to cry and wait to die, and instead I found the best person I’ll ever know. A person who helped me when they didn’t even know me yet punched a Doctor in the dick for being mean to me.” He chuckled around the tears. Violet wiped them away with the pad of her thumb. “I don’t know how I knew, but when I woke up that next morning, I just knew you were going to be there, and I had to see you. I had to get to know you and I’m so glad I did.”

Peter’s chocolate doe eyes stared deep into Violet’s sky blues. The tenderest, most loving look anyone has ever given Violet filled his expression and made her heart ache. “One single act from you did what not even my Aunt and Uncle couldn’t have done. You made that gross feeling go away, and you alone have kept it away.” He laughed again, shyly glancing away. “I swear if I weren’t gay and you were interested, we’d probably be married right now.”

Violet grinned, “hell yeah. The moment I turned 18 we’d sign on the dotted line and we’d be Peter and Violet Parker-Mason, if that’s what you wanted.”

“I’d love to be a Parker-Mason, two awesome names from two awesome people.” Peter poked Violet in the ribs, making her laugh even more.

“A tech whiz destined to surpass the likes of Steve Jobs and other techno geniuses, and a chick who just won’t quit no matter how much people get sick of it.”

Peter shook his head slightly, smile broad and knowing, “the reason she won’t quit is because she still believes life can be better if we fight for what’s right.”

Violet shrugged, “can’t help it. It’s one of the few things that keeps me going. That and you of course.”

“You too,” Peter smiled, his warm and loving gaze making Violet melt with it’s gooeyness, “and since you’re not going to be my wife someday, I’m thankful you’re my sister.”

“A little early with the thanks and all that jazz aren’t we? Thanksgiving’s not for . . . however long it may be.” Violet spoke softly, her sarcastic smile disappearing as she finished her thought. “Anyways, I’m glad you’re my brother too.”

“You’ve always been there for me,” Peter spoke shakily, “no matter what you’ve always been there.”

“And I always will be,” Violet promised, gazing earnestly at him.

Peter shook his head, “not if you keep going like that.”

“Like what?”

In a sudden movement, Peter pulled from her embrace and moved to sit on his feet. Positioning his body to fully face her, Peter stared down at her surprised form and addressed what he was holding back. Addressed what really bothered him about the recent ordeal.

“What Tony did, and was going to do, needed to be stopped. I’m grateful that you did it, but how you did it is what scares me.” He took a deep breath, urging himself to continue. “A few months ago, when we were out and that random drunk alpha started hitting on me when we were walking home, you handled it like you always did. You kicked him in the balls, kneed him in the chin, and then took my hand to get me out of there as quickly as possible. Quick, easy, done. End of story. What happened there was not you, it was an animal that’s been locked in a cage and hasn’t been fed in weeks.”

“He was hurting you-” Violet spoke up, voice shaking and eyes burning, “no one hurts my brother and gets away with it.”

“I can deal with what Tony did because I have you with me,” Peter cut in, wide doe eyes desperate and blurred with tears, “but if you let that mentality take over. The vengeance and hatred win out over the good and kind heart I know you have, then I won’t be able to.” His bottom lip quivered, body shaking in time with the tears that fell. “I won’t be able to because you won’t be with me. If the animal I saw in that room wins out, then that means my sister is gone and I’ll be all alone. If I’m alone, I’ll turn back into that kid who went to the park determined to cry and waiting to die. Only this time I won’t have an angel come and rescue me.”

Violet sat up, gingerly grabbing Peter’s hands in a way to show that he could stop her at any time. He reached out and grabbed them, gripping them tightly. She pulled him close and rested her forehead against his.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow, fuck even an hour from now. I don’t know what’s going to happen to us, but I swear to you Peter I’m always going to be here. No matter how angry I get or caught up in a rage like I was, I’m always going to come back to you. Some way somehow I will come back and slap you upside the head for thinking I would ever leave you behind.”

His lips quirked slightly, “like Gibbs when he’s reprimanding his team?”

“Just like Gibbs, though maybe not as harshly.” Violet smirked, running her fingers through his hair once more. “I’m always going to be here,” she glanced at his heart, nodding towards it to reaffirm her point, “even if I’m not in the same room, castle, country, or whatever. I’m always going to be there, just like you’re always going to be here,” she pushed out her chest and glanced at it as well. Peter smiled at that, leaning in close and pulling her in for a hug.

“I know things are going to be scary for a while. I know we’re going to have to do things we don’t want to do, delve deep inside to find the strength we need to deal with Tony and the rest of them. I understand that. I just don’t want us to get to a point where we’ve delved too deep and we’re no better than them.” Peter pleaded softly, squeezing her waist slightly as to not cause her any pain. It did hurt, but Violet didn’t dare make a sound. “I’d rather remain as the people we are and held captive for the rest of our lives then somehow escape them by turning into them. Is that bad?”

Violet shook her head, breathing in his wonderful, dewy and lavender scent. “It’s not wrong at all, and we don’t need to worry about that right now. The time we have now is all about you, and I’m going to take care of you.”

Peter smiled, finding safety in warmth she gave him. “You always do . . . are you going to let me take care of you someday?”

Violet let out an amused grunt, so soft Peter almost missed it. “Maybe, no guarantees though.”

“That’s a start,” Peter whispered, and then fully relaxed in her embrace.

Peter and Violet eventually laid back on the bed. Violet on her back while Peter was cuddled up at her side, resting his head on her chest in the same positioning they had when they first entered the room. Violet had given Peter most of the clothes she was forced to wear considering he only had on a pair of boxers and was shivering feverishly. Now he wore the grey knitted sweater, the black overalls, and her thermal socks, leaving her in the biker shorts and white long-sleeved shirt. She would have given him all her clothes if he’d let her, but she knew he wouldn’t.

They were currently in the bedroom Violet had just awakened sandwiched between Bucky and Natasha. Bucky had taken them both here to get away from Tony, and quickly shut the door behind him after giving the order to “stay here”. Violet surprisingly didn’t mind. Follow an order that meant she got to spend time and tend to her brother after being assaulted by an Alpha or disobey and potentially get separated from her brother when he so desperately needed her most.

Didn’t take a genius to figure out which she would choose.

For a long while they just held each other, holding the other close and breathing in their scents while emanating calming pheromones of their own. The scent of Alpha depleted long ago as the pair settled in and tended to one another. Nothing else existed outside of this room. Nothing but Peter and Violet, two Omegas caught in a terrible trap who found comfort and strength in the bond they share. Maybe if they kept their eyes closed, the world would disappear and leave them floating in open space until aliens or other sentient creatures found them and saved them from imminent death?

Violet had calmed down considerably from her earlier show of aggression, but the anger still simmered deep in her chest. Peter’s screams were fresh in her mind, the sight of Tony’s hand pulling at his hair and hurting her brother made her scream with rage. She wanted to rip that bastard apart until he was nothing more than a puddle of bloody mush and sinew. Hurt him like so many Alphas have hurt innocent Omegas. Make him suffer the way Billy did. She wanted him to cry out in agony for everything he has done, and she wanted to be the one to do it.

And that was why she couldn’t.

Peter made a really good point. What was the point in escaping the Avengers if in the process they would inevitably turn into versions of them as well? Violet understood that, but if they stayed and didn’t fight back, they’d be turned and shaped into what The Avengers wanted them to be. Maybe not pets or dolls or slaves like Violet originally believed, but they would still change them to fit their stupid ideology or some shit. Take the fight out of Violet, manipulate them into thinking this was something they wanted, to be their ‘chosens’ and go along with whatever that was. Either way they were going to change.

Perhaps they already started?

“For all of her faults, I think Mrs. Lovett was a badass.” Peter broke the silence suddenly, bringing Violet’s attention back to him.

“Oh yeah, and how did you get on that subject?”

“I was just thinking about how badass you are, and how even though you hate wearing dresses you’re still willing to fill out my Halloween fantasy and be the Corpse Bride to my Victor.” Peter chuckled, pulling back slightly to look at Violet once more, “and then I thought about which Tim Burton character could be just as badass as you, and that’s how I landed on Mrs. Lovett.”

“I know I can a be a bit extra and a tad obsessive when it comes to shit like Game of Thrones and partying, but I didn’t think I was Mrs. Lovett bad.”

“You’re not,” Peter chuckled, quickly assuring her, “you’re just both badasses and particularly protective over kids too. Just don’t start chopping up bodies and baking them into meat pies. Okay?”

“But what else would I put into my meat pies?” Violet winked, sending the pair of them into a fit of giggles.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

The reaction was instantaneous. Both Omegas sat up in bed, Peter clinging to Violet while she gingerly maneuvered her body so that she was shielding him from the entrance. Both sets of eyes stared intensely at the doorway. Jaws clenching, muscles tensing. Peter’s lips quivered but hers were frozen, stuck in a slightly pursed and tensed position. Her gaze briefly flickered around the room for any potential weapons she could use to defend Peter before landing on the door once more.

Another knock.

Neither Omega answered, remaining on the bed as they awaited what was to come.

“I’m not an Alpha,” a sardonic voice spoke through the door. It was a man’s voice. He sounded both polite and sarcastic at the same time, like he was forcing himself to sound polite but when a bit too far with it. He had a foreign accent, British from the sounds of it. Violet didn’t trust it. Too many movies involved British actors playing the villain, and she was literally surrounded by some of the worst of the lot.

She squeezed Peter’s hand gently and then quickly moved off the bed. He whimpered slightly, following her with a death grip on the back of her shirt. Together they walked over to the bags of luggage stacked in front of the door. Violet only had to search through the pocket on the closest bag to find a suitable weapon to use on the newcomer standing outside the door.

A stun baton, how convenient.

It was much shorter than the one she used (hopefully) a few nights ago. Only a few inches or so longer than the length of her hand. Still, once she turned it on, she felt the thrum of power in the tiny device, pushing away any doubts about the quality of the weapon. Once it was ready, Violet backed away from the door with Peter nervously following suit.

“I’ve come bearing gifts, if you’re willing to speak with me,” the voice urged on.

Violet and Peter remained immovable. Silent as the grave. They waited for the voice to continue.

“One of the gifts just so happens to be breakfast in bed, which means you don’t have to leave the room if you so wish.” Brief pause, waiting for some response from the Omegas. Violet wondered how long it would take before he decided to just waltz in. There was no lock on the door and apart from the luggage there was nothing in the room Violet could move to barricade the door. The bed, table, and dresser were either too heavy for Peter and Violet to move or bolted to the stone floor. The chair had wheels and proved to be useless in blocking the entrance. Most of the luggage was obstructing the entrance, but it wouldn’t be much of a deterrent for most of the Alphas.

Once more, Peter and Violet didn’t give a response.

The voice was getting impatient. “I know you’re not here of your own will and have experienced many a traumatic event in the past few days, but as the owner of this estate you are currently residing in and as an Omega who is not in the mood to get on the bad side of two particularly displeased Alphas, I must insist that you open the door and allow me to at least provide you with food and water.” There was another brief pause, taking a breath before continuing, “there is another Omega out here who would like to speak to you. A Wanda Maximoff who is clearly concerned for the pair of you. If not for me, please open the door for her?”

At the mention of Wanda’s name, Peter broke.

“Maybe we should?”

“It could be a trap, a ruse to get us to open the door and let them in so they can have their way with us?”

Peter looked particularly alarmed before saying, “after what happened with Tony, I don’t think they’d go that far. They really seem to want us to trust them and pulling something like that would have the opposite effect. Personally, I say go for it.”

Violet sighed, assessing their options before rolling her eyes and stepping closer to the door.

“Wanda?” Violet called, refusing the move or lessen her protective stance.

“I’m right here” her assuring voice called through the door. Wanda’s voice. Violet hated how Peter instantly relaxed at the familiar tone, and how she too relaxed. Wanda was firmly settled in Alpha land; they couldn’t trust her. So why the hell are they trusting her now?

“Is the mystery guy telling the truth?”

“If he wasn’t, I’d say code blue” which meant get out now!

Violet sighed once more, glancing at Peter and waiting for his reaction. He nodded, awkwardly giving a thumbs up before she turned her attention back to the front door.

“Door’s unlocked,” was all she said, brandishing the stun baton as she did.

It was a challenge for the pair to get through the door as they pushed the high stacked bags of luggage aside, but they proved to be up to the task as the pushed the door open and forced the luggage bags aside. Wanda was the first through, wearing dark designer clothes that belong on the runway, “sleep edition”. The moment she entered the room she ran forward and hugged the pair of them close. The mystery man, or whoever Violet guessed too be their mystery man, was the next and last to make it through the opening carrying a tray of pancakes, waffles, and what looked to be salmon and eggs.

A strange combination to say the least.

The stranger had long, black hair that fell to his shoulders, almost greasy in their straight and wet nature. The pale pallor of his skin was unnatural and shaped the sharp and angular features of face to be more witchlike than humane. Was this man even human or just some cruel anomaly created by unethical scientists trying to find a cure for one thing while really finding another piece of drama that doesn’t even matter anymore. He was tall, having to duck upon entering the room. His angular face tilted towards Violet’s defensive and protective form in front of Peter, smirking all the while as he set the tray of food down on the nearest table.

“You must be Violet,” he abruptly concluded, “I’m going to like you.”

“Who the Hell are you?”

He smirked once more, stepping up close until he was in Violet’s personal space. He sniffed, breathing in her scent for the smallest fraction of a second before suddenly hurtling backwards to avoid getting a stun baton to that angular face. Why does everyone keep doing shit like that?!

“Whoa! Easy there. I’m just getting the measure of you, that’s all.”

“The measure of me? Are you fucking serious?!”

“I am actually, thank you for noticing,” the man winked, but otherwise made no move towards her.

“Violet it’s okay,” Wanda pleaded softly in Violet’s ear, but Violet was done listening.

“Who are you?!” Violet insisted, brandishing the stun baton once more.

The man straightened up slightly, inclining his head towards Violet before shifting to Peter and repeating the action.

“My name is Loki, Prince of this native land you are currently trapped in, and I am here to help you settle in and explain what it means to be an Avengers Chosen. I strongly suggest the pair of you get a bite or two of you breakfast, and then we can get started. How does that sound?”

“Terrible,” Violet growled, but lowered the stun baton at Peter’s behest.

_Rochester_

Wade Wilson was a fucked-up dude, and no amount of rude humor and witty retorts could change the fact that he masturbates to a unicorn plushy, sleeps amongst a slew of recently deceased bodies, and has a collection of skulls just chilling in his overnight bag. The guy was fucked up and had no reason to be hanging around a school, especially one that was a cover for a secret organization like the X-Men. Sadly, even Logan had to admit that he was damn good at his job, and if anyone knew who this mysterious Omega 13 was, it was going to be him.

So, after Frank and Logan dusted themselves off and cleaned up any evidence of their presence at the blown to shit diner, the pair of killers rode in Frank’s trunk to Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters in search of the most prolific mercenary to ever exist.

Deadpool, who was too busy playing with dolls and French braiding their hair whilst sitting in a tree to be concerned with the likes of the Hugh Jackman and Jon Bernthal look-alikes. Too busy thinking about his old pal ‘Brea’ and their training sessions while she was healing up from the trauma she endured at the hands of HYDRA. Granted, Violet didn’t know anything about this because it was shortly after she was taken to the hospital and was completely blacked out for two weeks, but Wade taught ‘Brea’ how to fight and defend herself so HYDRA and other Mercs couldn’t get to her. She promised to share her techniques with Violet whenever it was needed.

Wade only got to hang out with ‘Brea’ for those two weeks, but it was more than worth it. She was so much fun, and bright, and just so happy. She gushed about Violet all the time and Wade absolutely couldn’t wait to meet her in person. More than once he’s tracked down the brash Omega over the past year and simply watched from afar, ignoring the creeper vibe he knew he was channeling whenever he did so. Violet and her cute little friend Peter were just adorable together. Wade so desperately wanted to reveal himself and get to know her but knew better than to do so.

Violet rightfully hated Alphas with every fiber of her being, and since Wade was an Alpha it was better to steer clear until he was needed.

There was a reason Wade was a Merc instead of a bodyguard, he absolutely sucked at protecting people while a savant at murdering them. It’s the only explanation about how Wade could have missed that Violet was totally fucking taken by the Avengers and didn’t even notice until Matthew Murdock and Detective Sam Wilson randomly showed up making noise about looking for her.

‘Brea’ was there for him when she didn’t even know him. Wade was going to be there for Violet in anyway he can. Starting with seeking out help from the X-Men and ending it with murdering the bastard Avengers if it was the last thing he ever did.

What a reward that would be.

Currently he was humming _A Whole New World_ to himself and braiding another doll’s hair when Frank and Logan suddenly turned up beneath the tree.

Glaring at the Merc intensely, Logan shouted, “Wade! Get your ass down here!”

Wade looked down. “Oh My God! P.T. Barnum! What on earth are you doing here?! Don’t you have a show to do and freaks to take care of?! I’m sure Zac Efron is missing you terribly.”

“We need to talk to you about a job. One that involves bringing the target in alive and is connected to HYDRA.” Frank cut in, shoving his hands in his jacket pocket.

“Ooh! Those are always fun. Sadly, I don’t take live jobs anymore. Not after the Kaminski incident with the horse, the bomb, and the midget taking a land rover for a ride and blowing a hole in the side of the Staples Center.” Wade shivered, “midgets are freaky.”

“We’re not asking you to take a job,” Logan growled fiercely, “we’re asking you about one from last year. Around mid-July. Involved HYDRA and an Omega 13. Any of this ringing a bell?”

Wade stopped braiding; body frozen as the realization hit him.

Omega 13.

“What do you know about it?” Wade asked suddenly, all humor vanished from his tone.

Logan and Frank noticed. “Not much, we were hoping you could fill us in.”

 _Oh, I’ll fill you in alright._ Wade thought as he set aside the doll, petting her hair before sliding out of the tree and landing roughly to the ground. _I’ll fill all your holes, slice you apart, and then cut you into tiny pieces so I can feed you to Blind Al’s cat Rufus!_

He grabbed the Katana’s at his back, pulling them from their holsters as he rushed forward and swung.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the chapter! Deadpool vs Wolverine vs The Punisher! Who's going to win?! Loki is now officially in the picture, Wanda's allegiance is seemingly in the Avengers camp, and Steve is an asshole while Darcy deserves better. What'll happen next?! I'll give you a hint . . . 10 Questions :D. Thank you guys for reading my story! You all are amazing and I can never thank you enough! Please leave a comment and let me know what you think! :D


	9. Mama Bear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deadpool meets Brea, and the Omegas have a quick chat with Loki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter! Things get super weird in this one but hopefully not too weird. Hopefully it's better than the last one and you guys really enjoy it :D. Thank you so much for reading!

Chapter 8

Mama Bear

_Deadpool_

_July 2018_

Omega 13? Such a lame classification. What? Did Omega 12 and 8 not have the same ring to them, so they just offed them and moved along? HYDRA was so predictable in their lack of depth when it comes to what they think is their endless pit of depravity. Please. The only depth they have could fill a kiddie pool filled with goldfish. Dead, floating on their back’s goldfish. So tasty. Everyone thinks they’re so original in their torture and experimentation when really, they’re just copycats and making themselves famous on other people’s originality.

 _Just like Gilderoy Lockhart only with terrible hair and stained teeth!_ Bosco, his most outspoken voice box with his good old country boy accent shouted through Pool’s mottled brain.

Exactly! Good voice box. Harry Potter and that sweet, sweet bottom bitch of an actor playing him are always welcome in my brain.

 **You’re forgetting shit bag** , his over voice box Mr. Whiskers cut in with his Scottish accent on full display, **it’s our brain too**.

And what a wonderful place you two have made it! Now where is that damn paper- Got it! Ah hah! Eat that shit face! Now let’s see. Omega 13 already got that. 5’3’, thank God he’s not a midget. Oh! She! Sorry. Thank God she’s not a midget. That would be kind of awkward. Imagine the sex- wait, how old is she? Damn, not legal. No go for me. Oh well. Curly hair, hair color red. Couldn’t they have just said ‘red curly hair’? Idiots. Estimated 110 lbs., a bit small for a 17-year-old but then again, she’s a few inches away from being a midget so it could worse. Slight New York Accent. Mouthy? In all caps?! I might be in love! Last seen leaving the junk entrance after setting Rumlow on FIRE! Oh My God! Definitely in love!

Boxes! I’m getting married!

 _But she’s 17_. Bosco shouted.

I can wait!

 **For how long?** Mr. Whiskers cut in. **And what will you do if she doesn’t want too?**

However long it takes! It’s got to be less than a year! I’ve held out longer than for my dog Mary to come back . . . why did you convince me to kill him Mr. Whiskers?

**He ate paint for dinner and pissed on the couch every ten minutes. He had to go.**

But he was so adorable!

**And fucking stupid. Now what are you going to do with the girl?**

Take her to Blind Al and have sex on the couch. Duh!

**And if she doesn’t want to?**

Get on my knees and beg her to fuck me of course.

**You’re pathetic.**

_He is not! Wade’s a good boy, and this girl will be lucky to have him!_

**Lucky to feel the kiss of his blade when he’s done fiddling with his pecker after she pity fucks him.**

_That’s not nice, Mr. Whiskers. Why do you always have to be so rude?_

**And why do you have to exist you stupid mutt!**

Enough! Enough! There’s only way I’m going to find out if I’m getting pity fucked or spending the night with my hand. I have to find her first.

**Good luck with that. You couldn’t find your way out of the trunk of the car with a map and a set of keys.**

Neither could you Mr. Whiskers. Now on we go! Cue the 3 hours later meme from SpongeBob though in reality it’s more like two days.

Now, let’s set the scene. So excited!! Gosh I feel like such a little kid! This is so cool! Wait, I’m dragging on. Should I stop? Author! Can we stop now!?!

. . . fine

It’s downtown Manhattan. The daily smog alert in full effect and covering up the big bright stars in the night sky. It’s surprisingly chilly for a summer’s night, even with the time which was about midnight. I’m eating a taco from the food truck because they didn’t have any chimichangas! Oh, the horror! I shot him in the balls for that. That was about oh say 30 minutes ago which means I need to hurry before the cops decide to do their job and come looking for the crazy dude in a red and black Kevlar suit.

I came to this part of town because a little birdy from the hospital told me that a girl that fit the Omega 13 description was brought in. Suffering from severe hydration and head trauma, she seemed like a really good fit. Hence why I’m here. I was using the back entrance and polishing off the taco when in came a barreling blur of white and red, bumping into me and almost spitting out my dinner as a result. How dare they! I grabbed the blur before it could get away and forced them to face me.

Holy shit, did I already find the girl?! The author must want to rush through this because we’re getting to a good part. Yippee!

Oh no, she was scared. I mean of course she’d be scared. She just escaped an underground HYDRA experiment facility by the edge of her teeth and set one of the high-ranking agents on fire. Totally turned on by that. On top of that she was probably hurt really bad and just caught by a mutilated assassin who is being super creepy by just holding her in place and not saying anything.

Shit! I should say something! Dammit author! Don’t leave me hanging!

“Are you my Dad?” the girl asked, cocking her head and staring at me with those big blue eyes. Oh, that hair looks so soft too, I just want to run my hands threw it over and over again. I bet it felt like a waterfall-

Wait, what the Hell did she just ask me? . . . sweet Jesus. Author! You suck!

“Oh, baby cakes-” slipped out before I could stop it. Fuck that, I didn’t want to stop it. She was sweet as can be.

“I’m not a baby . . . or a cake,” she spoke slowly, like she wasn’t entirely sure of what she was saying. “I don’t know . . . what I am. Everything feels weird.”

“Well that’s what happens when you get bonked on the head,” I pointed to her war wound. Good hit. Based on how steadily she stood, she took it well. “Makes the world go sideways and you’re not yourself for a while. I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve taken a hit to the old noggin.” I rapped my knuckles on my forehead, making her laugh as a result. “Now I have two voice boxes that won’t shut up half the time.”

“Voice boxes?” The girl asked inquisitively, voice high and bright. She’s not scared. Shocking. Delightful! I’m so fucked.

“Just voices talking to me in my head. One’s a psychotic cat with a Scottish accent. The other’s an old dog from Georgia. Such a good old boy.”

“They’re animals?” She started smiling. Those big blue eyes going impossibly wider. “You have animals in your head?”

“Why yes, I do little munchkin, do you?” I couldn’t help it. I bopped her on the nose.

She nodded excitedly, “yeah. I keep seeing a white and black fox howling at the sky. The more it howls the brighter the sky gets, and the warmer it gets too. Like it’s breathing life into a fantasy world or something.” She stopped, looking at her hands and gasping. “I have the same paws! I’m a fox too!”

Yep, definitely head trauma. Let’s play along! “What kind of fox?”

She shrugged, “red. Maybe the other is an angel or something?”

“Or maybe another version of you? I’ve got like twelve personalities trying to take control of this mutilated carcass all the time. Let me tell you, that shit gets old real fast.”

The girl cocked her head once, staring at him with a furrowed brow. “Mutilated?”

Shit! Shouldn’t have mentioned that. “It means I don’t look pretty because people did . . . um . . . bad stuff to me. Stuff they tried to do to you.”

She shook her head, “they didn’t do it to me. They did it to her. The white and black fox.” Those big eyes went hazy for a second, staring through him as she pondered what she was saying. Suddenly she smiled, “Violet. Her name’s Violet, and my name’s . . . Brea. Yeah, Brea.” She was positively beaming now, “Violet made me.”

Oh my God, this girl was perfect. Except for one slight problem.

She doesn’t smell like an Omega at all. In fact, I couldn’t get a whiff of anything on her which was kind of troubling. Then I saw it, the two scent glands at her neck. Oh man, she was one of those ones. Not good. Not good at all. Evolved Omegas were like purebred dogs, weird reactions to the oddest things. Apparently, an alternate personality means her scent glands shut down, sheathing her from even the most astute Alpha senses, unless they had eyes of course. I mean she looks like a little doll and I just want to play with her all the time. She was so cute!

Hold the phone, maybe this was a good thing?

“Does this mean I’m like you?” The girl, Brea since Violet appeared to be indisposed, asked in a coy tone.

“Oh, not even close, I’m grade A fucked up. On a scale of 1 to 10 I’ve shot through the sky and now dancing naked on the moon to Barry Manilow.”

She giggled, “that means two moons are in the sky.”

I gasped, then picked up in my arms, holding her bridal style in preparation for our future wedding night *wink wink*. “I love you! Marry me!”

“I can’t do that. That’s incest.”

Wait what? Oh! I never actually told her I wasn’t her dad. Bad Deadpool.

“I’m not your Dad, now marry me! Please?! I’ll cuddle and play hide the zucchini with you anytime you want! I’ll even wash my underwear!”

“I know you’re not my Dad. He’s way taller than you. Also, he’s a penguin. You’re way cooler, but don’t tell him that.”

Ooh, intriguing.

“What am I then?”

“Hard to tell, your mask keeps covering you.” Her hands reached up to touch the red Kevlar near his jaw. “But you sound like a drunk and overprotective mom, so I’m going to guess a bear. A momma bear.”

Hmm, he’s been called way worse by way less cute people. He’ll take it. “Oh, honey bun, if you want me to be your mom I will be.”

“I don’t want you to be my mom,” she interrupted quickly while still pulling at his mask, “I want you to be Violet’s. She’s never had one.”

I didn’t have time to process that when suddenly my mask was almost completely off my head and she was staring at me. Holy fuck-knuckles! Why the Hell didn’t I stop her!? I don’t show anyone my face! Not even blind Al who I’m pretty sure is totally faking it. No way she bumps into all those tables unless it’s on purpose! Now this girl I barely knew is- Oh God! She’s looking at me! She’s going to puke I just know it-

“Yep,” she nodded with a knowing smile, “definitely a mama bear.”

Wait, what?

“You’re not grossed out?”

Her brow furrowed again. “No, why would I be?”

“I looked like two old as fuck avocados had hate sex just see which one would die first. I’m a testicle with teeth. A topographical map of Utah face fucked by Freddy Krueger-”

“You don’t look like any of those things,” Brea frowned, “but none of them can be as bad as this.”

I rolled my eyes. “What? Did they shove a radioactive pinecone up your ass that turns you into squirrel girl or some shit?”

Brea shook her head, lips turned down as she adjusted her body in his arms and lifted the hospital gown. It took a lot to hold back the boxes from finally joining this fucked up conversation and a hell of a lot more to hold back my other personalities when she pulled up the fabric. But once I saw what she was talking about, the fight in them died, just like my awkward hard-on I was really trying not to mention.

In untidy scrawl, Omega 13 was carved into her right side, still bleeding and slightly infected from the looks of it. I turned my attention back to her face, watched the first tear fall from her eyes, and everything changed. No one was going to touch this girl again. Not on my watch.

She wanted me to be the Mama Bear? Oh, I’m going to be her Mama Bear until the day I finally die.

“Let me show you this really good taco truck, you could use something to eat.”

And with a breaking laugh, Brea and I turned away from the hospital and began our beautifully fucked up familial relationship. She my daughter, and I her mother.

Now! Back to your regularly scheduled angst chapter starring Violet and Peter! Special Guest Star Loki who’s destined to cause some trouble, and Wanda who’s practically turned grey with how long she’s been living in the background!

But first, let’s tune in and see what’s currently happening with me! Deadpool!

Hooray!

“Fucking hell, Wade!” Logan growled from his perch on top of the struggling mercenary, “why can’t you do everyone a favor and just fucking die already!”

“Believe me Wolvie! There’s a ridiculous montage reel of all my suicide attempts on DVD and Digital everywhere! Why don’t you pick up your phone or remote and fucking watch it already!” Deadpool grunted through the chokehold Frank Castle had in him.

“Shut the fuck up!” Frank growled, increasing his hold on Deadpool’s neck, “for Christs sake just punch him out already.”

“Ooh! Is the Punisher going soft-” Deadpool was saying when Logan’s entered his line of sight quick as a flash.

Then nothing but black.

_Peter and Violet_

_Bedroom_

Violet hated to admit it, but the pancakes were exceptionally good. She wasn’t normally a fan of ricotta, but the cheese meshed well with the lemon and gave it a pleasant taste she wasn’t expecting. It was well cooked, and the sugar on top was the piece de resistance to the surprising treat. Peter gobbled it up like he was dying from starvation while Violet only took a bite or two. The peanut butter and chocolate chip waffles were soaked in maple syrup and whipped cream, and Peter was absolutely fawning over it. Violet had a few bites of it as well, making sure Wanda got a piece before Peter absolutely inhaled it. The salmon was pretty good too, and the poached eggs were well prepared and seasoned with finesse. Violet and Wanda shared it after Wanda gave Violet a stern look when Violet tried hoisting off the food on her.

Pardon her for not wanting to eat potentially poisoned food. The only reason she didn’t stop Peter is because she didn’t want to suffer the blow of his sad puppy eyes for not letting him eat the wonderful looking food. She dared anyone to try and do that without feeling the need to pile him with presents for making feel bad.

All the while their mysterious, and in Violet’s opinion unwelcome, visitor sat calmly as they ate in haste. Emerald eyes watched their antics with a shrewd expression. With a smirk on his face, leg crossed over the other, and hands clasped together in his lap, he was still as a statue whilst he watched them with avid interest. Violet shivered with unease.

Not creepy at all.

He was dressed finely and elegantly, befitting the Princely title he claimed was bestowed upon him. She wasn’t sure exactly what time it was but based on his clothes she figured it was closer to evening than breakfast time. Three-piece suit, gold cufflinks, charcoal grey sash around his neck with gold patterning, shiny dress shoes she couldn’t even begin to describe, and dark hair slicked back and shaped like the most fashionable grease stain to ever exist. More than once she had to refrain from asking him, “Ready to get the party started?” or something equally ridiculous because that’s exactly how he was dressed. Either like he was going to a party or the party was coming to him.

Maybe _he_ was the party?

“I hope the three of you enjoyed breakfast,” he finally spoke after an inordinate amount of silence while they ate.

“It was delightful,” Wanda was quick to respond, delicately wiping her mouth with one of the gold cloth napkins he presented the three of them. “Thank you so much for bringing it to us.”

Loki hummed, emerald gaze pouring over every facet of Wanda. “Adequate posture, polite and submissive demeanor, good manners, elegant taste in fashion while retaining the unfortunate preference for casual ware . . . not royalty but most certainly born in wealth and expectations.” He paused, studying Wanda’s unflinching form as he mulled over his answer. “Politician?”

Wanda smiled, “My mother worked at The Winter Palace in St. Petersburg for many years. My Father was indeed a politician, but never made it past the Council of Ministers as he once hoped to accomplish, or so my mother told me. I never knew him. He died when I was a child. As we grew, my brother Pietro and I were often coerced into attending multiple Galas and events at the palace, and eventually other prestigious museums when my Mother decided to leave St. Petersburg and move to America.”

“I gather she died in transit?”

Wanda nodded; a jerky motion that gave away how uncomfortable she truly was with this topic. “My uncle Erik took us in for a time. He and his mate, Charles, were both very kind to us. Once my brother and I were old enough, we bade them goodbye and until recently were living reasonable lives in New York.” She straightened her back, hand reaching out to flick away a bit of fuzz on her black pants. “You’re quite perceptive.”

His lips quirked, “only when my eyes are open.”

Violet gritted her teeth, gently nudging Wanda’s hand with her own as a show of support. Wanda returned it with equal vigor.

Loki turned his studious gaze towards Peter. “Aren’t you precious one?” His sardonic smile turned into a malevolent grin, the corners of his mouth turnings upwards in a twisted smile. “Why everyone must fawn over you, little duckling. A tasty treat for even the most bitter and callous of people.”

“Leave him alone,” Violet growled, blatantly grabbing Peter’s hand glaring the Prince down.

The twisted grin remained, a sharp intake of breath as he leaned in slightly from his disinterested positioning on the chair. “You must be Violet.”

“And you must be Jack the Ripper. Such a shame, I was expecting the canonical mustache and twirling cane to match your shadowy silhouette.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Loki winked, “I’ll wear them next time.”

“With the bloody clothes and sharpened knife?”

“I’ll drown my clothes in blood if you want me too.”

“No, you’d drown your clothes in blood for the thrill of it.” Shaking her head, she vehemently continued, “party guys like you tend to try anything just to make themselves feel high without ruining their bodies from drugs.”

“And gangly teenagers such as yourselves are more than happy to follow my lead just to say they did. So, who’s the real sycophant?”

“Tik Tokers and other Social Media hounds, along with the assholes standing outside the door listening to everything we’re saying, along with your phone peeking out of your jacket pocket that you’ve diligently refused to mess with despite how it throws off your entire ensemble.” She gestured to his outfit, glancing at the sliver of metal she desperately hoped was a phone. On that front she was totally bluffing. She could see the shadow casted on the wall determining the presence of another waiting diligently outside the room. 

His lips quirked, curling upwards once more. “It appears I’m not the only perceptive Omega in this room. Not bad.”

“Hold back your false courtesies and explain why you’re in here talking to us, and don’t say it’s because you have some weird fetish watching people eat.”

“Ironically I do, but only where my Alpha is concerned.” Loki winked, finally adjusting to hide the sliver of phone, “and since you’ve found us out, why don’t we make it more official?”

“Make what more official?”

“I’ve come to help you settle in and explain the rules of what it means to be an Avengers Chosen. In my opinion, I believe the Alpha, or Alphas, who chose the Omega should be present during this process. Seeing as you know outside parties are listening in, why don’t the three of you come with me to address them properly?”

He stood from the chair, smoothing out his clothes before turning away and heading towards the door. Once there, he turned back to stare at the three. A knowing smile on his face. “Don’t be shy, you’re about to spend the rest of your lives with them. Might as well break the ice and become more acquainted-”

“Are you fucking nuts!” Violet growled, eyes widening incredulously, her teeth bared slightly as she gestured to Peter. “He was just assaulted by that fucked up Alpha and you want us to just walk in there like nothing happened?!”

His smile lessened considerably, “it’s not my place to defend other Alphas actions, and I assure you it is not my intention to do so. What happened to Mr. Parker was not premeditated and entirely preventable if his Alpha had taken the appropriate precautions and simply listened to both his Doctor and his lovely A.I. FRIDAY.” He took a breath, turning to face them fully, “Stark went into a rut this morning which explains his actions but does not exonerate him. I was forewarned that you,” he nodded to Violet, “in particular would have strong feelings about the unfortunate event along with Mr. Parker’s wellbeing, and for that I can only offer my sincerest apologies and assure the three of you that we will do our best to prevent this from happening again.”

“Are you sure _you’re_ not a politician?” Violet seethed, clenching the hand that wasn’t holding Peter’s into a tight ball of rage, “because I’ve never heard a bigger load horseshit in my fucking life, and I had to listen to my health teacher drone on and on about politics to get out of answering questions concerning the female anatomy.”

“I’m a Prince not a politician,” Loki’s smile returned, “I was also told that you were given reign to punish Mr. Barnes and Ms. Romanoff for breaking their word. I can’t wait to see what you come up with.”

She cocked her head, “wait they were serious about that?”

Loki chuckled, “with those two, especially Mr. Barnes, they mean what they say. Apart from necessary situations where lying is called for the only people they lie to are marks, targets, enemies, and anyone who dares hold a knife to their throats. Tell me Violet, do you consider yourself as one of those options?”

“Undecided,” Violet answered without any heat in her previously enraged tone. 

Loki’s smile grew, “I’m going to like you.” 

“I doubt it,” Violet retorted.

“We shall see,” he winked once more before turning back towards the door. “I assure you the only Alphas the three of you will be seeing are perfectly aware of their actions and will keep a fair distance from Mr. Parker considering his recent trauma. However, I cannot promise the same for you two.” He pushed open the door, ignoring the loud creaking sound that was typical for an old castle such as this. “Come along, best not keep them waiting.”

“What if we don’t?” Peter finally spoke, shifting around in his spot on the bed. “Can’t we stay just here?”

Loki sighed, clasping his long elegant fingers in front of him. “You’re a smart boy, unbearably sweet but also quite intelligent for someone your age. Think about this logically. Based on the events the led you to this point, where you’re currently trapped and temporarily living in my home, do you really think you’re going to get out of this conversation?”

“I’m not talking about that,” Peter quickly replied, leaning forward slightly to address the Prince while squeezing Violet’s hand to stop her incoming growl. “It’s just . . . I’m really cold, and I’m scared if go back in that hallway I’m going to get frostbite or something. If we’re going to have this conversation, I’d rather be warm and retain my focus in here instead of freezing to death and not paying attention at all out there.”

“Oh!” Loki leaned back slightly, pondering Peter’s request. “That makes sense. I’m afraid I must apologize again. That simply isn’t feasible.”

“Why the Hell is that?” Violet spoke in a dark tone before Peter could stop her.

“Because this room is not only yours, it’s Mr. Barnes and Ms. Romanoff’s room as well, and Alphas are forbidden from entering another Alpha’s domain unless given explicit permission to do so which rarely ever happens, or when necessity calls for it like what happened earlier today. What I can do is provide you with warmer clothes and a comfortable spot near my fireplace. How does that sound?”

“That sounds lovely, we really appreciate it.” Wanda cut in with her smooth and unshakeable voice. Violet attempted to glare at her when Loki clapped his hands in excitement.

“Good! Now up we go, I have much to inform you.”

With that Loki disappeared, and Violet seethed in silence.

But not for long.

“Remember that morning after the drinking game? It was only a couple weeks ago, or at least it was. You know, the night where Kilgrave made his threats, everyone woke up hungover as shit, I confronted Tony fucking Stark, you made a Halloween dinner date with him and his Alpha friends, and I turned to look at you after Peter went off to do his job? You remember what I said to you?” Violet spoke through clenched teeth. Jaw impossibly tight, shoulders stiff and immovable, mouth set in an angry grimace.

Wanda sighed, shoulders drooping ever so slightly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Of course, I do. I think about it every day.”

“If you think about it every day, then why don’t you share with the class exactly what I said.”

For a long moment she didn’t respond. Opting to fiddle with her fingers instead of uttering a single word. Then, with a sharp exhale, Wanda turned those crystal eyes to face Violet full on. Expression saddened, forlorn in its downcast nature.

“You said, ‘ _thank you for not going to the dark side because I would be totally fucked if you did_ ’.”

Violet nodded, fighting to keep her breathing even and her temper in check. She abruptly stood from the bed, pulling Peter with her and aiming him towards the exit of the room. Violet turned back to face Wanda’s dejected form for the tiniest of moments.

“If this is your way of moving on from Baron, then I get it. You’ve always wanted an Alpha who would treat you right and worship you like the Queen I know you are. You’ve made that perfectly clear over the years and I respect that. If that’s what this whole thing is about, then I don’t care as long as you help get Peter and I out of here before it’s all over.” Violet’s chin wobbled the slightest bit, trying so hard to stay levelheaded when addressing her friend. “But if you’re doing this because you think we need an Alpha or some horseshit like that then I strongly suggest you pull your head out of your ass before one of us gets raped and mated against our will. Peter could’ve been seriously hurt today, probably even killed if we hadn’t stepped in.”

Violet stopped, shaking her head slightly before abruptly turning away and walking through the exit door. She stopped at the threshold, sparing Wanda one last glance. “Let me know when you’re back on our side. Until then, think long and hard about what Peter went through today because if we don’t put an end to this bullshit soon, that’ll be his whole life. Think on that.”

Then, Violet fully turned away, and walked hand in hand with a shivering Peter into the freezing hallway, leaving a tear-stricken Wanda behind her.

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.telegraph.co.uk%2Ffilms%2F2016%2F04%2F14%2Fdeadpool-review-enjoyably-obnoxious%2F&psig=AOvVaw36FIqSY3VqhvhB8khmGTRe&ust=1584061435058000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCLDA8IDfk-gCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAE)

(Wade handling business :D)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Ftenor.com%2Fview%2Fwanda-maximoff-scarlet-witch-avengers-sad-gif-15092481&psig=AOvVaw1fNlcgdlj3Wfg8M4cVsAAp&ust=1584061567332000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCJCb5a7fk-gCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAK)

(Wanda when Violet is confronting her)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boom! End of chapter! I realize that everything's moving kind of slow and I promise I will start picking up speed and incorporate a small time skip soon. I just need to get past these next few parts first and then I'll be able to do so. The next chapter will most definitely involve the meaning of what it means to be an Avengers chosen and the rules it entails. Do you think Violet's words will get to Wanda, or will she continue as she has been? Will Peter keep ramping things up, taking after Violet and being strong for her? What do you think the rules of being a chosen entail? Please leave a comment and let me know what you think! :D:D:D
> 
> You guys are the best! Thank you again for reading my story!


	10. I Can Handle This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conversation has finally arrived, but can Violet handle it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of a long chapter and I was so tempted to cut it off right before the actually conversation started because of that reason, but I decided to keep going because I needed to write it before I found a reason not too. That being said, because I decided to make this chapter longer I was able to get to a moment I didn't expect too and I'm really excited about what's to happen next. Big shit starts happening here! You have been warned!

Chapter 9

I Can Handle This

_Violet and Peter_

_Main Room_

If Violet and Peter hadn’t already guessed that they were stuck in a castle, they certainly didn’t need to anymore.

The hallways contained the same misshapen stonework as the bedrooms. There were no lights except for the candles and old-fashioned torches straight out of medieval times. Decorative seals, rusted weapons, and all manner of ancient artifacts were either hung or stood tall along the tight space corridors. It was snug fit for the two Omegas traveling side by side, hand in hand. Loki’s slender frame was a slight lean one way or another from brushing the stonework and getting dust on his designer clothes. As far as they both could tell, there didn’t seem to be an ounce of electricity anywhere in this place.

Or heat.

Peter had shivered like he was dancing butt naked in Antarctica instead of . . . wherever the Hell they were. Violet really didn’t want to get into whatever conversation they were heading towards, but since Peter wouldn’t take anymore of her clothes and his clothes were currently with the asshole who tried raping him, there weren’t that many good options left. Also, there was supposedly a fireplace. If that were true, then Peter was going to get the best seat of them all.

Personally, Violet didn’t think it was that cold. She always ran a little hot so cold temperatures didn’t affect her as strongly. Even with what little she was wearing she was arguably warmer than Peter was right now.

Currently they were in what appeared to be the main room. Sure enough, there was a fireplace. Roaring and crackling with the wood freshly thrown in by a tall, hulking man with long blonde hair tied back in a braid. Muscle bound and fit as can be, like a Viking God ready to set out to sea or some shit. He wore a simple black button-down shirt with tailored grey pants and black dress shoes. Violet groaned at the sight of him. This must be Loki's Alpha. If his name was Thor Violet was going to-

“Thor,” Loki addressed him with a smile, bowing his head slightly as he continued towards the muscle man.

Fucking figures.

The man, Thor, turned around to face the Omega. Smiling and laughing in a boisterous, happy tone. Big, firm hands reached out to cup Loki’s face, eyes crinkling as he moved closer.

“Loki,” he whispered, brushing his thumb across the Omega’s cheek before leaning and kissing him softly, quickly. Just a peck. Loki pouted. “I see you’ve brought the new brood.”

“Yes, my Alpha. Charming pair they are,” Loki responded, glancing over his shoulder with a sly look at Violet. “My kind of people.”

Violet flipped him off before Peter could stop her.

Thor’s expression darkened at Violet’s action, “yes, your type indeed.”

“Shame I didn’t find her before they did, we could have had so much fun together.” Loki lamented, a salacious glint to this wicked face.

“In your dreams Bellatrix,” Violet growled, “now where are the clothes you promised Peter?”

Loki sighed, turning back and kissing Thor once more, “I’ll be just a moment. Please get them situated. The boy doesn’t do well with the cold.”

“I shall,” Thor promised, brushing Loki’s lips with the pad of his thumb before releasing the Omega. “Hurry back.”

Loki winked, and then turned away.

Violet briefly watched Loki disappear down a dark corridor before turning her attention to the Alpha in the room. He gave them a gentle smile, the slightest curl of his lips as he gestured towards the fireplace. “Come along, settle next to the fire.”

Apart from sparing a moment to glare at the man, Violet rushed Peter to the fireplace, quick to put herself between him and the Alpha. From the corner of her eye she watched him back away slowly, eyeing the pair of them with interest as he headed towards what appeared to be the bar area. “Would either of you care for a drink?”

Peter shyly looked past Violet, “do you have any water?”

Thor smiled brightly, “of course. Bottled or a glass?”

“Either is fine,” Peter confirmed before quickly adding, “thank you.”

“You are most welcome,” Thor nodded before turning away.

Violet glared at Thor’s back before appraising Peter with a confused expression. “How are you so nice?”

Peter shrugged, “I was raised that way, blame Uncle Ben and Aunt May.”

Violet rolled her eyes, “yeah and earn May’s cherry pie in my face? Big pass on that.” She paused, squeezing his hands gently, “have you thought about them lately?”

His eyes glanced down and away from Violet, a slight droop to his shoulders. “No, not really. I’ve been kind of preoccupied.”

“We both have,” Violet sighed, “are you sure you’re okay to do this? You don’t have to talk to any of them if you don’t want to. I can handle this if you want to head back to the room and stay with Wanda.”

His eyes whipped back to her face, “but I thought she was on their side?”

“I’m not totally sure, I just assumed that because she’s been helping them and convincing us to stay and give them a chance. At the end of the day she’s still our friend though,” Violet shrugged, looking quite unsure of her statement.

“Is that why you said those things to her?” Peter prompted. “Knock some sense into her?”

“Yeah,” Violet concluded, her suspicious gaze briefly turning to the Alpha in the room. “I don’t know what she’s doing. What I do know is that we’re not getting out of here without help, and she’s the only one here who might.”

“What about Darcy? Didn’t she lose that bet? The one you guys made when we were drinking during Omega Night and playing two truths and a lie?”

“The bet I too lost and now owe her a blind-folded makeout and grope session? Yes, I remember. Problem is we don’t know if she’s here, and I’m pretty sure my side of the bet involved her getting us out of the tower, not a different country.” Violet rubbed her face in frustration. “Do you have any ideas? I’m sunk.”

Peter exhaled sharply, “if I had to come up with something right now, I’d say wait it out.”

“And figure out where we are first?” Violet concluded. “Among other things.”

Peter nodded, expression somehow lost and hopeful at the same time. “Like I’ve said before, I’m really glad you’re here with me.”

“Anytime,” Violet winked, the left corner of her lips turning up in a halfhearted smirk. “Only let’s aim to not get kidnapped next time.”

Peter chuckled, “agreed.”

They barely had the time to smile at one another when Thor suddenly arrived with a glass of water. He had cleared his throat, calling their attention to his statuesque form. Naturally, Violet glared at him while Peter hunched in on himself and shyly studied him from his comfortable spot on the chair.

What Violet was starting to believe was Thor’s go to action, Thor smiled at the pair of them and gestured to Peter with the glass in hand. “Here’s your water. Would you like me to bring it to you or-”

“Set it on the table and back up,” Violet commanded, quickly followed by Peter’s shocked and small reply of “please.”

Thor, looking thoroughly amused, nodded to Violet and set the glass on the table. “May I get you anything?”

“A life for both of us without any of you to ruin it?” Violet quickly retorted, nodding to Peter who let out a shocked gasp.

Thor hummed, studying her briefly, “I can see why Loki likes you.”

“I don’t really care.” Violet stood, ignoring Peter’s panicked squeak as she did so, “now back up.”

He did as she bid, cocking his head and crossing his arms as he continued studying her. “You’re not the typical Omega, are you?”

“I’m really not,” she pushed past him to grab the glass, “and you’re not the typical Alpha.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Most Alphas would have tried bashing my brains in by this point with all the shit I’ve been saying,” she turned back to Peter, studied the water to see if it was messed with, and then handed it to Peter. “And they definitely wouldn’t let me order them around.”

For the first time, Thor completely lost his smile. A nasty grimace arose in its place. “I’ve heard tales of such Alphas from many Omegas throughout the years, and it never fails to annoy me. The indignity they show to the world, heightening the craze of Alpha cruelty and offering proof of such abhorrent behavior. It sickens me.” Thor shook his head in disgust. “I was raised to believe Omegas were the pinnacles of this world and should be protected as such, yet everyday they’re vilified and-”

“Do you really expect me to believe you?” Violet interrupted, holding back her original response of _do you really expect me to buy into your bullshit_? She could tell Peter was getting absolutely traumatized by how she was addressing the Alpha based on his renewed grip on her hand. Tight and constricting. So, she edited her response to slightly appease him.

It didn’t work.

“Violet,” poor Peter pleaded with her, tightening his already constricting grip.

“It’s alright Mr. Parker,” Thor waved off Peter, staring intently at Violet, “and no Ms. Mason, I don’t expect you to believe me-”

“Don’t call me that,” Violet interrupted yet again, “my name is Violet, end of story.”

Thor took no offense, surprisingly nodding in an almost respectful way towards the brash Omega. “I apologize. May I call you Ms. Violet instead? Using only your first name connotes that we’re personally acquainted which couldn't be further from the truth since we are only first meeting.”

Violet mulled it over, “that’s fair.”

“Thank you,” Thor responded in a soft tone. “As I was saying, I don’t expect you to believe me. From the information I’ve gathered from Mr. Barnes and Ms. Romanoff, I’ve come to realize that you have suffered much from the hands of many. Primarily those who share my second gender. I’d offer endless apologies for that, but I don’t believe you would accept them. All I can say and do is help assure that you and Mr. Parker will not suffer as you did before your unprecedented arrival.”

“No,” Violet bit her lip, shaking her head in frustration, “we’ll just suffer in different ways.”

“I sincerely hope not,” Thor responded in a soft tone.

There was a beat of silence. “Mr. Thor?”

Both Violet and the Alpha turned their attention to Peter. Violet in muted fear, Thor in curiosity. “Yes, Mr. Parker?”

“This might be a really bad question to ask, but is that really your name?” Peter asked in a shy tone. Staring curiously with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Violet pursed her lips and glanced at the Alpha with equal curiosity. She had wondered the same thing too.

“You mean is Thor my birth name?” Thor pressed, humming at Peter’s jerky nod. “In fact, it’s not. My given name is Donald Blake. I was born in Australia and lived there until I decided to come to America and learn how to be a Doctor. I was 16 or so at the time.”

“You’re a Doctor too?” Violet asked, surprised by how level her tone was.

Thor seemed surprised as well, his expression lightening considerably at the change. “Not entirely. I found I didn’t have the right aptitude for such work. Once I knew the basics, I switched over to my two other passions, History and Astronomy, which both led me here.” His eyes took on a glazed look, staring at nothing in particular as he pondered the path he took to get to this point. “If I hadn’t decided to change my original path, I never would have met the love of my life.”

“Are you talking about Mr. Loki?” Peter pressed before he abruptly gasped, “or is it Prince Loki? Sorry, I’m not great with customs.”

“Especially when he has no idea where he is,” Violet cut in, glaring at the small slivers of window allowing small amounts of light into the room.

“It’s quite alright,” Thor smiled, glancing briefly at Violet before continuing, “and for the most part he prefers Loki. If that is how he introduced himself to you then he expects you to call him as such.”

“If he had introduced himself as _“I’m Bomb-Diggity, Prince of the Underground, dance before me until the end of time”,_ what then?” Violet turned her cold gaze back to the Alpha in front of her.

Thor tilted his head slightly, “did he address himself as such?”

“Answer my question and I’ll answer yours,” Violet returned, refusing to move an inch.

“Were you anyone else, I’d have to kill you for disobeying the Prince’s order.” Thor sighed in annoyance, “since you’re a chosen, I would have to punish him for putting me in a such a predicament.”

Violet’s eyes widened, “has he done that before?”

“He was not gifted his name without reason,” Thor replied in a stern tone. “Now please answer my question.”

Violet exhaled sharply, “he didn’t.”

“Good,” Thor relaxed, his smile returning. “I do so hate punishing him, even when he wants me too.”

“He wants you too?” Violet asked with an expression that questioned the Alpha’s sanity.

“Not always, but there are times when he feels he needs it.” He cleared his throat, looking slightly uncomfortable, “I wish to not talk anymore of it.”

Violet nodded in agreement, “fine with me.” It was bad enough being stuck here against her will. She didn’t even want to think about punishments and shit like that.

Peter shifted in his chair slightly, getting a better look at the hulking blonde Alpha standing tall and proud in front of them. “So how did you and Loki meet?”

Thor’s glazed smile returned, “that’s a story for another time, one I would happily share with the two of you someday down the line. Just know this, I would never trade the world for him. Even when he prompts me into doing things I’d rather not.”

“And this all happened because you changed your major?” Peter pressed, eyes wide in their curious gleam. At Thor’s vigorous nod, Peter poked Violet in the side, “See! I told you switching majors wasn’t the worst thing ever.”

Violet flinched back, “why are you telling me that? You’re the one who kept flip flopping between Chemistry and Engineering. Wanda, Karen, and May were the ones who made a huge deal out of it. I told you to do what you want and figure it out later.”

“Wanda’s sulking and the other two aren’t here, so you’re getting the brunt of it.” Peter shrugged, smiling a shit-eating grin.

Violet scoffed, “you can be awfully annoying for a little brother.”

Peter laughed, “I’m six months older than you, that makes me the big brother and you the little sister.”

“You’re five months older than me and I’m taller than you, ergo I’m the big sister and you’re the little brother.”

His mouth dropped, “I was born in July, you in January! That’s six months!”

“Yeah, July 31st and New Year’s Day, both of them by like five minutes. Ergo, five months.”

“Five minutes?” Thor suddenly cut in, interrupting the pairs silly argument.

Violet rolled her eyes, “he was born five to Midnight, meaning he was almost an August baby-”

“And still rocking a Leo sign,” he gently interrupted with a smile.

“While I was born five minutes into the New Year,” Violet shrugged, “meaning I could have been born at the end of the year-”

“But instead she started it,” Peter patted her arm, “and still the same loveable Capricorn I’ve known for years.”

“And still five months apart,” she winked at him.

“Whatever, I’m still older than you which makes me the big brother.”

“And I’m taller than you which makes me the big sister.”

“Is this conversation even important?” Peter cut in, cocking an eyebrow as he stared up at her.

Violet shook her head, “not in the slightest.”

“Are we doing this to kill time?”

“More like stall until the need for whatever conversation we’re walking into is lessened to the point of just sending us back to the bedroom and calling it a day.”

Peter nodded in conclusion, “I mean it’s their fault, they’re the idiots that chose the pair of us.”

“Duh,” Violet rolled her eyes again, “I think we’re running out of steam, should we just look into the flames until this is all over with?”

“Yeah, maybe move a little closer too?” Peter asked, rubbing the arms of his sweater to warm them up.

“Consider it done,” Violet concurred before moving behind the chair and helping Peter move just a tad closer to the flames. From there Violet sat on the floor next to Peter, rested her head on his knee, and together they waited for their doom.

They didn’t pay attention to Thor’s reaction of the pair. They didn’t notice how intrigued they each made him, and how disheartened he became with Violet’s abrasive demeanor. It so reminded him of Loki when the pair first met. So rough and edgy in the most unpleasurable ways. Thankfully, Thor was able to smooth those edges out and loosen his darling up with time and patience. He had no doubt Barnes and Romanoff could do the same with her given enough time.

The real question is would there be enough time?

The next few minutes passed by as the previous few minutes. No movements from the Omegas apart from the rise and fall of their chests and Peter’s fingers playing with a loose strand in Violet’s hair. No sounds uttered apart from the crackling of the burning wood and the rare pleased hum emanating from Violet. Thor didn’t dare move as he watched the pair of them in interest, though neither of them realized what he was doing. They just sat together and watched the flames flicker in the fireplace, basking in one another’s presence.

Finally, after an extended amount of time, Loki finally arrived with a bundle of clothes and two shadows in tow. Correction, three shadows in tow. Two hulking figures and a much smaller one quickly appeared and revealed their counterparts as they practically flew into the room. Romanoff was the first to enter, rushing past Loki and heading straight for the Omega pair at the fireplace before stopping just short of them. Barnes repeated the action, stopping directly next to his mate. Rogers was the last and hung back watching the scene before him, turning his attention to Thor and greeting him gratefully.

“Good to see you Thor,” he outstretched his hand, and Thor shook his vigorously.

“Welcome back Captain, it’s been too long since your last visit. How is your prospect fairing? Still undecided?”

Steve grimaced, “I’m afraid a decision has been made.”

Thor grunted in disappointment, “Not good I see. Well, I’m sorry it didn’t work out. I have no doubt you’ll find someone better suited for you in time.”

“I doubt it but thank you.”

“Always, my dear friend.” Thor clapped him on the shoulder. “If you ever need help in finding a suitable companion, even a temporary one, please let me know. Loki and I are more than happy to oblige you.”

Steve waved off the request with a smile, “I think I can manage on my own, but I do appreciate the offer. It means a lot.”

 _Fucking Hell_ was suddenly uttered, and everyone turned their attention to the pair of Omegas at the fireplace. Peter hunched in on himself in the chair while Violet stood from the ground and placed herself protectively in front of him. Jaw clenched, shoulders slightly pushed back, and fists clenched in the ready. The meaning was clear to the Alphas. No one was going to hurt Peter on her watch, not again.

And they all loved her for it.

Thor nodded in approval. Barnes adorned a muted smiled while Natasha hummed in satisfaction. Steve felt a warm heat blossom in his chest at her action, unprepared yet unsurprised by his reaction. All three joined in their mutual admiration for Violet and her protective nature for the boy.

Then there was Loki.

“Stand down,” Loki cut in, a studious look about him as he smirked at Violet, very pleased with her blatant actions. “I’ve come bearing gifts.”

“And unwelcome tagalongs,” she gestured towards the 3 Alphas who accompanied him.

Loki shrugged, “it comes with the territory. Now here you go.” He moved towards her, extending his arms and handing her the bundle of clothes he carried. “These will fit over your, or should I say Violet’s clothes, with ease so you can change in here.” He turned and addressed the Alphas, “and since we’re unfortunately going to be one Alpha short for this process, The Captain will be filling in and looking after Mr. Parker until Stark is over his rut.”

Violet was literally about to say _the fuck he will_ when Peter abruptly stood from his chair and grabbed her shoulders.

“Please help me with these before you say what I think you’re going to say.” He pleaded with her, those kind doe eyes staring panickily into her own.

She sighed. Peter knew her too well. With one last glare at the Alphas, she angled the pair of them away and started unraveling the bundle.

Meanwhile, Bucky and Steve watched them intensely while Natasha turned and spoke with Thor and Loki.

“Has she eaten anything yet?”

“A bit,” Loki shook his head at the Omega pair in amusement, “she favored the salmon over the other two dishes, but I suspect it’s more because the boy prefers sweets. She had one bite of each dish and more than likely would have kept it that way if Wanda hadn’t urged her to eat more. Even so, it still wasn’t much.” He pursed his lips slightly, pondering a stray fact from the recent interaction. “She only ate on one side of her mouth. The left side I believe. Does she have cracked teeth or something along those lines?”

“She does, it’s on our list to fix once we start getting her settled.”

He awed in understand, “good luck with that.”

Natasha smirked, “did she drink anything?”

“Not with me and given her blatant reluctance I doubt that’s changed. Unless Thor was able to-” Loki gestured to his Alpha when the blonde warrior shook his head in disappointment. “Well never mind then.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Natasha winked before heading towards the bar area.

The Omegas were done in seconds. Violet was still in her plain white long-sleeved t-shirt with her black sports bra peaking through and her black biker shorts. Peter now not only had her sweater, overalls, and socks but also two other sweaters, three pairs of sweatpants, two pairs of socks, two scarves, and a pair of gloves he was rushing to get on his hands. Once he was done Violet had to help him sit back in the chair without falling over. Then she pushed the chair closer to the fire and handed him his glass of water.

“Thank you, Violet.” Peter smiled gratefully at her before taking a big gulp from the glass.

“You’re welcome buddy,” she carded her fingers through his chocolate locks before pulling on the last piece of clothing he hadn’t reached yet. A beanie. She pulled it the moment he emerged from his glass to take a breath and made sure to cover his ears. “All better?”

“So much.”

“Good,” Violet patted his head, then turned her attention to the flames.

There was no more time to stall. No more silly conversations to throw themselves into. It was time to face whatever was about to happen and neither of them were fully prepared for it. They had each other and that was enough to get through this moment and the next moment, but if they were going to make it out alive, they needed more. They needed help.

Only problem is, no one was going to help them. Even if Wanda pulled her head out of her ass and Darcy had a come to Jesus meeting and grew a backbone, it wouldn’t be enough. Peter and Violet were stuck for the foreseeable future, and no matter how many silly conversations or thought out escape tactics they suddenly conjured, that fact wasn’t going to change. At least, not overnight.

Violet hated to admit it but waiting it out just might be the best option. Otherwise, she’d probably get one or both of them killed trying to escape or fighting them off. She took a deep breath, steadying her nerves and preparing for the worst. She wasn’t going to give in, but if waiting it out was the best course of action, then maybe it was time to play along and see where things go.

She glanced at Peter, and he stared back intensely. They were thinking the same thing. They nodded to one another, reaching out and interlocking fingers before turning back to the flames. Okay. Wait it out and play along. Violet could do that. She totally could.

But she wasn’t going to be nice about it.

“Can we get this over with before Peter turns into even more of a Marshmallow?” Violet quipped, winking at Peter who chuckled, shaking his head.

“Of course,” Loki’s smooth, sardonic voice spoke eloquently far behind Violet. “If you wouldn’t mind taking a seat, we can get started as soon as Natasha returns with your drink.”

“I didn’t order one,” Violet groaned as she sank back to the ground, resting her head once more on Peter’s knee.

“Too bad,” Natasha’s voice suddenly entered the fray, sounding away just a few feet behind the Omegas, “because you’re getting one.”

From the corner of Violet’s eye, Natasha gracefully slid to the ground to sit next Violet, holding out a glass containing a dark liquid of some sort. Violet looked at her in shock, her gaze switching to the glass before returning to the burnt sienna. “Is that wine?”

Natasha shook her head, “Close, grape juice.”

“Why are you giving me grape juice?” Violet asked when Peter suddenly patted her on the head. Not a reassuring pat but an insistent one. She turned and glanced up at him.

“Just take it, we can’t keep stalling.” Peter whispered, big doe eyes imploring her to heed his request.

With a sigh she did, ignoring Natasha’s salacious smile as she took the drink from her hand. It wasn’t bad, a little tart but not bad. She wasn’t really a fan of grape in general, hence why she leaned away from wine on principle. She preferred apples, the green ones in particular. They were the best.

“So,” Peter bravely spoke to the room as Violet continued drink, “who wants to start?”

There was a beat of silence, and then a slight creaking noise sounded off from behind Violet. Soft footsteps came next to her, along with the warm heat at her back. Someone sat behind her. She didn’t dare move to look. With Natasha blatantly ogling her from her uncomfortable proximity next to her, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that Bucky must be behind her.

This day technically just started and already it wouldn’t end.

“Let’s get started,” Loki’s smooth tone began, “normally we would begin this process by introducing the Omegas and the Alphas to one another, but since everyone’s already acquainted, we can move along to the next part. Alphas, please state which Omega you have claimed.”

“James and I have claimed Violet Mason, formerly known as Brea Abernathy. She has two scent glands, meaning we both can press a claim on her and make her _our_ chosen.” Natasha answered quickly, reaching over to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Violet’s ear. Violet didn’t move, to incensed to do anything.

“Peter Parker has been claimed by Tony Stark who I, Steve Rogers, am representing today because of an unforeseen rut overtaking him this morning.” A stern, unwavering voice sounded off from far behind Violet. The Captain’s voice.

Violet clenched her jaw, tightening her grip on the glass at the horrible statement.

“Excellent,” Loki stated, “now let’s move onto the rules which shouldn’t take too long. There are not many when it comes to the Avengers as a whole. The first is quite simple. A Chosen can only be punished by their Alpha, or Alphas in Violet’s case, except in severe circumstances where the rest of the team must be consulted.”

“What does that mean exactly?” Peter piped up, shifting in his chair slightly. “When Darcy drugged Violet and almost killed her, Tony said that wasn’t a severe circumstance. If a . . . chosen almost dying on your watch doesn’t count, then what constitutes as such?”

“When the Alpha isn’t able to dish out the punishment,” Violet cut in, glaring at the flames flickering away, “whether the reason be death or captivity or some . . . severe circumstance. Right?”

There was a brief pause within the stunned silence. “Yes,” Natasha answered softly, “how did you guess?”

“Its not hard. All of you bastards are very much _mine, mine, mine_ when it comes to this bullshit chosen thing. Makes sense that the punishments would follow the same logic.” Violet spoke flippantly, impatient to get this over with. “Can we move on already?”

“As you wish,” Loki stated, a prevalent smile in his tone, “the second rule is just as simple. Never betray your Alpha.”

Violet rolled her eyes at that, taking another drink of her juice.

“Third, Alphas will not outright abuse their Chosen for any reason outside of punishment. Doing such results on the Alphas own punishment at the hands of the group, and temporary relocation of their chosen until The Alpha has been properly punished and rectified.”

“Yeah, sure, totally going to happen.” Violet muttered around her glass. Even Peter looked a bit skeptical.

“If either of you need an example of such an event, look no further than this morning with Tony and his rut.” Thor finally entered the fray, his voice booming throughout the room.

Violet and Peter looked at one another, then Violet huffed in annoyance. Handing the glass to Peter, she stood from the floor and turned to face Loki. “Define abuse.”

His eyebrows lifted, “pardon?”

“The third rule states that Alphas will not outright abuse their Chosen for any reason outside of punishment. What do you fuckers define as abuse?”

He sighed, shaking his head slightly, “this morning with Tony-”

“That’s two examples. Physical and sexual abuse. What about the others?”

Loki stared at her, blank and confused, “what do you-”

“There are multiple types of abuse that can occur between two people, partners or not. Physical and sexual abuse as previously stated,” Violet started counting them off with her fingers, walking past Bucky’s hulking figure on the floor. “There’s verbal abuse where you use your words to consistently hurt and vilify someone, most often utilized in the form of bullying but isn’t confined to the construct. There’s emotional abuse where a person’s emotions are manipulated and used against them, convincing them to do whatever you wanted no matter how much they don’t want to all the while driving them to madness and potential suicide. There’s mental abuse where you treat them like rats and condition them into your way of thinking until they are no better than puppets and slaves. Stalking is a form of abuse, don’t need to inform any of you on that. Especially these assholes,” she pointed to Natasha and Bucky, “and then there’s neglect. Leaving someone behind to fend for themselves in a capacity where they have nothing to fend themselves with which nearly always lead them to near or definitive death.”

Violet stopped, breathing deep to calm her nerves before continuing, “are those abuses tied into your little rule, or just the ones that you can easily brush under the rug and call a day?”

She stood directly in front of Loki now, staring at the frozen Omega with burning eyes. She bristled with anger, pent up and uncontrollable rage from all the pain she’s endured over the years threatening to boil over and burn everyone around her. Muscles in her body tight and tensed, teeth digging into her cheek as she stared down into those shocked emerald eyes.

He didn’t say anything. No one said anything. Just stares. Stares of concern, of shock, of disbelief. Empty silence that filled the room like a screaming, aching void of nothingness.

Violet scoffed at them, “so much for your little rule. Tell me what did you do with Darcy? What kind of _punishment_ did you force her to endure for helping me get through the night as a captive? What even are your punishments? Based on what I’ve seen a fair number of Avengers do in the past, I’d bet whatever I had that your punishments most definitely violate your precious and inconsequential third rule. Then again, it’s a punishment so it doesn’t count. Right?” Violet rolled her eyes, “fucking hypocrites.”

“Violet-” Natasha attempted to interrupt, but Violet waved her off with a sharp, cruel laugh.

“That’s all you guys are. Fucking hypocrites who have all the power in the world to make things better and instead you give the worst type of people in existence the excuse to do whatever they want. The excuse to hunt down innocent people, kids, and Omegas alike and beat them down, take everything that makes them good, and leave them to rot and die. To waltz around like they’re Brad Fucking Pitt instead of Jeffrey Dahmer. To look at this world that should be filled with life and kindness and turn it into they’re messed up playground by using the cold and cruel natures of monsters like you to their advantage.”

She stopped, taking a breath and backing away as both Natasha and Bucky rose to their feet. “That’s all you are. Just monsters. Monsters who thrive off pain, off the agony you give to those you deem below you.” She took a deep breath, pulling roughly at the sleeves of her shirt. “You want something to thrive off of, laugh and smile about just like you did with Billy, then here you go.”

She almost tore the shirt as she forced it off her body, then angrily turned so her right side could face everyone. With a look of utter disgust, Violet pulled up the side of her sports bra and revealed to the lot of them what they had missed too many times to count. What they had been wondering about and looking for since the HYDRA dared to invade the tower. A time that felt like weeks ago, when in reality it was only a few days at most.

In untidy scrawl, _Omega 13_ was carved into Violet’s side, and everything stopped. No noise, no movements, no one even breathed. Except for Violet. Violet in her rage breathed fast and hard as she stared each and every Alpha down. The look of horror on Thor’s face as he stared at the brand. The strange mixture of fear and concern from The Captain’s. The stunned look on Natasha’s as she surged forward to get a better look at the brand, hands reaching out and yet not touching Violet. Like she was afraid too. Loki’s face was confusing. He looked angry, yet studious as he always did.

Suddenly, Loki stood from his chair, his tall and slender figure staring down at Violet with calm calculation. Violet stared back defiantly, refusing to give an inch. However, when he opened his mouth, her expression completely broke.

“You’re perfect,” he stated plainly, placing a gentle hand on her upraised shoulder, “now you need to run.”

Huh? Violet flinched away from him, lowering the bra back in place as she pondered his words. What the Hell was he talking about? She just ripped them all a new one, called them a bunch of hypocrites, and showed them her deformation in a fit of rage. How the fuck could that be considered perfect?! Then Peter’s panicked voice called her attention, ending her pondering in an instant.

“Violet!” Peter squeaked, pointing directly ahead of him and backing away from the comfy spot next to the fireplace.

She looked to where he was pointing and froze to her core.

Bucky was pissed. Expression filled with rage and revulsion as he stared at the spot where the scar would forever be. Body vibrating and pulsing with tangible anger, teeth bared in an animalistic grimace, hands clenched painfully tight. Knuckles going white in hand, gears hissing and complaining in the other. He let out an angry, muted grunt. Like he was desperately trying to hold something back.

That led to the scariest part of it all.

In the three seconds she stared at him, the crimson that symbolized Bucky faded away, and the dagger-like silver took its place. The rage Violet was previously filled with gave way to absolute fear. Bucky was gone. He was gone.

The Soldier was here, and he was ready to pounce.

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Fpin%2F407364728776470430%2F&psig=AOvVaw2dWUg8Wfrl2Bedz37GvDsW&ust=1584305526473000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCMC636bsmugCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAD)

(The Soldier is here)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=http%3A%2F%2Ftoschestation.net%2Fnatasha-romanoff-is-better-than-you%2F&psig=AOvVaw19PF2Ll3-PuUlJTQ6XRbZw&ust=1584305627943000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCLji9tvsmugCFQAAAAAdAAAAABBP)

(When the Soldier Comes Out)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In short, Violet couldn't handle it. Bucky is gone, the Soldier is here, and now The Avengers know who Omega 13 really is. What's going to happen next? Did you predict Violet losing her cool and ripping them a new one? What will the Alphas do now that the Soldier is out and angry as shit? Stay tuned because the next chapter will be action packed! 
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading my story! Please leave a comment and let me know what you think! Your feedback is not only amazing but extremely helpful during the writing process :D. You're the best!


	11. RUN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Soldier is on the move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kind of nuts so be prepared! It's also a little long because I went a bit too deep into the end. Once you read it you might understand why. Thank you all so much for your responses! You're the best! 
> 
> The songs that helped inspire the chapter are as follows if you guys want to check them out! :D
> 
> Pet- A Perfect Circle  
> My Love Will Never Die- Claire Wyndham (not sure on the spelling of that)  
> Breath- Breaking Benjamin (ties more into how I see the relationship playing out)

Chapter 10

RUN

_Violet_

_Main Room_

One second Violet was staring eye to eye with The Winter Soldier. Next second, hands were on her and pushing her towards Peter who was absolutely fucking panicking against the wall next to the fireplace. From the corner of her eye, Violet caught Natasha’s anxious expression as she rushed past Violet and towards the Soldier.

“Run! Now!” She ordered before tackling the Soldier and kneeing him in the chest.

For once, Violet listened to Natasha.

Turning to Peter she rushed to him, grabbed his hand, pulled him away from the wall and sprinted towards the dark corridor they had just exited not too long ago. Yells and screams emanated from the main room as everyone rushed to subdue the Soldier while the two Omegas escaped. Scratch that. Three Omegas.

Loki was right behind them.

“Go! This way!” He reached out to a flickering torch, went past it to the decorated shield and ancient swords it illuminated, and pulled harshly at hilt of one of the swords. Violet expected Loki’s intention was to use it as a weapon, but she was wrong. Instead of coming loose, it merely slid out of it’s place a few inches before abruptly stopping and unleashing a grating, booming sound. Dust and grime filling this space of the corridor and covering the three Omegas.

The wall opened, and with a firm shove from Loki, a corridor was revealed.

“Peter, inside now!” Loki ordered, grabbing the boy by the shoulder and harshly throwing him inside.

“What the fuck!” “What are you doing?!” Violet and Peter shouted at the same time.

“The Soldier is after you, not him.” Loki briefly explained, fending off Violet’s shoves as she tried to get to her brother. “If he stays with you, he will be hurt. The safest place for him to be is out of sight and away from the source of the Soldier’s rage. Thor or I will come and fetch him once the danger is over.” Loki abruptly grabbed Violet’s shoulders, expression stern and pleading in the same moment. “Do you understand me?! Are you listening to me?!”

Violet breathed deep, glancing down the corridor where the grunts of pain and physical exertion from the fight occurred. Then she glanced at Peter and his frozen form on the cold floor. His wonderful doe eyes pleaded with her, begging her to make the right decision. In her mind the decision she was quickly reaching was right, but Peter wouldn’t agree with it. Not at all.

Right now, she didn’t care.

She kneed Loki in the groin and punched him in the throat. The look of pained surprise overtaking his expression as she pushed him into the confined space with Peter. He had just landed when Peter stood to his feet, intending on running out of the small space and joining Violet, but stopped with a shake of her head.

“I won’t let him hurt you,” Violet spoke firmly, grabbed the sword by the hilt, “stay safe.”

“Violet!” Peter shouted, rushing towards the door when Violet pushed in the sword and the opening closed with a loud, grating boom!

The muffled sound of Peter’s screams emanated from the other side, shooting Violet in the chest and leaving her breathless in her pain. She didn’t want to leave him, didn’t want to shut him away with a man neither of them knew, but Loki was right. The Soldier was after Violet, and if Peter stayed with Violet he would most certainly get hurt. She wasn’t going to let that happen. If he ended up hating her for it then so be it. She’d rather him hate her for protecting him than dead because she failed too.

A roar sounded down the corridor followed by a thundering crash. It was closer than it was a few minutes ago. Much closer. Violet glanced at the wall where Peter was trapped behind. With tears in her eyes, she prayed he would be okay, and then ran away from the thundering sounds and further down the corridor.

The cause of the crash came from Thor landing haphazardly and effectively destroying the bar due to his weight and the momentum in which he was thrown. His head smacked the ground and quickly covered in falling debris. With a muted groan and sharp exhale of breath, Thor was swiftly taken out of the equation as he fell unconscious. The Captain lay not far from him, cradling his arm and staring intensely at the fight occurring in front of him. His arm was snapped. Bones protruding, muscles and tendons on display, blood spraying the walls and soaking the floor as he worked a makeshift tourniquet around the near shattered appendage.

Amazing what a broken piece of glass can do in the wrong hands.

Natasha still fought The Winter Solder, knowing his moves and maneuvers far better than anyone on the team. She was able to dodge, counter, and manipulate his skill set for a time, but even he still had a few tricks up his sleeve. He had one distinct advantage Natasha did not.

Rage.

“Soldat!” Natasha attempted, dodging his incoming punch and side stepping with a punch to his ribs. “Poslushay menya!”

“Net,” he growled, responding to the punch with a knee to the solar plexus, “ty bol'she ne kontroliruyesh' menya.”

“Stoyat' vniz!” Natasha yelled, struggling to return the hit.

He grabbed her throat with his metal hand, squeezing tightly as he lifted her off her feet, “Ona ne tol'ko tvoya i yego. Ona tozhe prinadlezhit mne.”

Quick as a flash, the Soldier headbutted Natasha, knocking her unconscious as well, then tossed her onto the couch. Taking a moment to adjust her position, ensuring she’d wake in a more comfortable state, the Soldier straightened up and sniffed. The alluring scent of his Omega prevalent in the air. The memory of those starry eyes and sweet voice tempered the cold rage fueling his motives. He had a mission, one he assigned himself, and he was going to complete it.

Turning on his heel, The Soldier followed his Omega’s scent without a word, gliding at a sharp pace towards the dark corridor she fled through.

_(Poslushay menya – Listen to me_

_ty bol'she ne kontroliruyesh' menya – you do not control me, not anymore_

_stoyat' vniz – stand down_

_Ona ne tol'ko tvoya i yego. Ona tozhe prinadlezhit mne. - She's not only yours and his. She belongs to me too.)_

Peter pounded on the wall that Violet just closed on him. Screaming and screaming to her, calling her name and pleading with her to let him out. He couldn’t let her face that monster alone. He wasn’t going to just sit here as she traded her safety and potentially her life in favor of his own. Not this time. Flashes of Kilgrave pointing a gun at her, shooting her point blank as she fought to protect him filled his mind and clouded his senses. The sound she made as she fell to the ground in agony. The way she crumpled in on herself as the thugs drug his struggling, aching and heat-ridden body passed her fallen form.

Not again. Never again.

“You’re not going to get through that way,” Loki’s strangled voice garbled out to him, catching Peter’s attention. He turned towards the sound, but he couldn’t see anything; it was too dark. A hand settled on his chest before switching to his shoulder. “Come along, I know the way out.”

Violet snuck down the darkened corridors, avoiding areas that displayed any prominent bits of light. She was in a familiar area. The bedrooms! Hers was right there! If she went in maybe she could find a weapon?! No, she couldn’t. Wanda was probably still in there. Shit! Wanda was still in there! No matter how pissed Violet was she couldn’t just not warn her even if the danger was mostly focused on Violet. The Soldier could kill Wanda just for having Violet’s scent on her. She had to tell her!

With the decision made, Violet slipped back into the bedroom, glancing around the stone walls for any hulking, intimidating figures. Sure enough, Wanda was still sulking on the bed, a pillow in her lap and hugged impossibly close to her chest. It looked like she was trying to shove her head inside the pillow just by smelling it to death. Well, not anymore.

“Wanda!” Violet whispered fiercely.

Wanda looked up in fright, confusion coloring her shocked expression. “Violet? What are you-”

“I pissed off the Alphas and now the Winter Soldier is trying to kill me. You need to find a place to hide and fast!” Violet commanded in her hushed tone, heading towards the luggage and rifling through them in search of a decent weapon, a map, or a phone to call out of here for help or at least get into contact with FRIDAY.

“Wait- What happened?” Wanda responded, tossing the pillow away and moving to kneel on the floor next to Violet.

“To make a long story short, I ripped the bastards a new one over their bullshit bias rules, showed them my scar in a fit of misguided rage, and now the Winter Soldier is trying to kill me.” Violet switched luggage cases, desperately searching for the one filled with weapons she found earlier. “Peter is stuck in a secret passage with Loki, you’re in here with me, and I have no clue whether Darcy is here or not.”

“She is,” Wanda answered breathlessly, helping Violet unzip the luggage bag, “but she’ll be safer if you leave her be. No doubt he’ll be tracking your scent.”

Violet nodded in agreement, “I figured, but Darcy still needs to be told-”

“Darcy is currently doing her punishment for breaking a slew of rules Steve set for her during . . . Omega night. She’s too preoccupied to worry about something that doesn’t truly concern her.”

Violet stopped searching, staring at Wanda incredulously, “punishment? For what? For drugging me-”

“What she did to you is only part of it,” Wanda started, pressing a calming hand on Violet’s exposed shoulder, “there are a lot of things Darcy did that have nothing to do with you. A lot of rules she’s consistently broken-”

“Oh really?” Violet rolled her eyes and shook her head, “well some rules are meant to be broken, especially ones that neglect to classify abuse in their explanation and use it as a scapegoat to do whatever they want. Fucking bastards.” She cursed suddenly, knocking over the luggage bag and roughly pulling open another one. “Where is it?”

“What are you looking for?”

“The weapons bag!” Violet stood abruptly, dashing to the next stack. “I came across one earlier and got a good stun baton out of it, but I left it behind when Peter and I left to see the Alphas and now they’re both gone.”

“You mean that black bar over there?” Wanda pointed towards the bedside table behind them, “it was on the bed, so I moved it.”

At the sight of it, Violet jumped back to her feet and raced towards it. Thank God, it was the same one from earlier. Violet switched it on, smirking at the sparks that crackled out of it. She glanced around the room once more, hoping to find the weapons bag in a last-ditch effort, but there was no more time. She remembered how quickly Bucky dispatched the HYDRA goons when they invaded the tower. Remembered how strong he was. Ripping a bolted table out of the floor and tossing a steel door all the way across the cafeteria was nothing to him. Bucky was already lethal and scary on his own.

She didn’t want to know how far gone The Winter Soldier was in comparison.

“Please tell me that is a last resort and not some Plan B shenanigan?” Wanda pointed to the stun baton, eyes wide with worry.

“No, it’s my primary plan to pick a fight with The Winter Soldier. Otherwise known as Plan A.” Violet shrugged before flipping Wanda the bird, “of course it’s my last resort. I’m impulsive, not delusional.”

“Did you even think about what could happen before you decided to show everyone that?” Wanda gestured to Violet’s right side where her scar was.

“Of course, I didn’t. I was pissed and not thinking clearly. I just wanted to give them a taste of their own medicine and shove those idiotic rules down their throats. Show them how much irreversible damage they’ve caused and shit like that. I certainly didn’t want to bring the fucking Soldier out and get my head bashed in or throat crushed.”

“I know, I know.” Wanda breathed deeply, slowly. Violet breathed in time with her, desperately needing to calm down and retain her focus. “I’m sorry for chastising you. This whole thing-”

“Wanda I’m glad you’re trying to apologize or at the very least helping me out, but we need to get out of here before he shows up. If he’s tracking my scent it won’t be that much longer.” Violet’s freehand grasped Wanda’s shoulder as she desperately looked around the room. “We need to find a way out, fast.”

“I’ll peek out the door and keep a lookout. In the meantime, go through those bags and put on some clothes.”

Violet was about to protest when she realized what Wanda was doing. “Masking my scent and making it harder for him to track me.”

Wanda nodded, “I’d recommend his clothes. That way you can go back over potential paths he could have taken to find you.”

“On it,” Violet set the stun baton aside and dove back into the bags of luggage.

Steve was on the verge of losing consciousness, but with a yell of pain he forced himself to his feet. The main room was a mess of pure destruction. Tables shattered, glass everywhere, the bodies of his fellow Avengers lay forgotten and still. Steve pressed forward, cradling his shattered arm as he pushed his way down the hall towards the bedrooms. The same corridor the Omegas escaped through. The same corridor The Soldier followed. Steve took in the frightened scents of Peter and Loki, the cold rage in The Soldier’s, and the adrenaline pumping through Violet’s.

He followed the combined scents in haste, desperate to find Violet before The Soldier did.

Peter and Loki followed the pitch-black passage hand in hand. Peter’s wet and clammy due to a terrible combination of fear and aversion to the cold. Loki’s was surprisingly strong and firm. Peter felt assured and comforted as they stumbled blindly together. He didn’t know this man, but in the darkness his word for escape was the only thing he could trust. So, onward they went.

Meanwhile, the Soldier continued to prowl in the darkened corridors. Extinguishing torches and sniffing the air as he went. Apart from the gliding movements in his methodical pace, The Soldier was a statue. Still and rigid as the stones that made up the castle. A haunting image he created, moving ever so close to the bedrooms where his Omega’s scent was the strongest.

In the limited time, Violet managed to pull on a pair of jeans and boots from what had to be Natasha’s luggage, then multiple Henley shirts that were all way too big for her and smelled just like him. Hopefully it would be enough to throw off her scent and direct him elsewhere. She had just pulled on the last shirt when Wanda’s turned abruptly to face her.

“He’s here! Get under the bed.”

Violet cursed, grabbing the baton and rolling under the bed in the same breath. Wanda quickly joined her, following her action in another attempt to cover her scent. Not like it would do much good. Either her scent was covered, or it wasn’t. Wanda snuck an arm across Violet’s back, pulling her in close to her side and holding her tight. Violet grabbed hold her hand and squeezed it.

They didn’t have to wait long.

Violet expected a more action blockbuster type move where the door gets kicked open and shatters from the sheer force of it. Instead she got the suspenseful, horror movie trope. Not surprising, but it didn’t make it any less scary. The grating, creaking sound as the door is slowly pushed open from the other side. Chills ran up and down her spine, freezing her to her core with fear. Wanda bit her lip, body trembling to the sudden appearance.

Thick, military grade black boots appeared, making no sound as they slowly sauntered into the room. Funny, Violet didn’t remember him wearing boots earlier. He must have grabbed them after he helped Violet rescue Peter from Tony and his rutted brain. And dick. More shivers, this time from disgust. Wanda tightened her hold on Violet slightly, then suddenly loosened it. Violet looked to Wanda in shock, eyes popping wide as Wanda made movements to reveal herself.

She squeezed harder, mouthing “what are you doing” without making a sound.

Wanda glanced at the Winter Soldier before abruptly pointing at Violet. “He’s after you,” she mouthed, taking a shallow breath before she continued. “I’ll distract him while you run.”

Violet tried to protest, ready to throw caution to the wind and reveal herself before Wanda had the chance, but Wanda stopped her with a harsh, nail digging squeeze of her own. “It’s the safest way for both of us.”

Then, before Violet could stop her, Wanda shoved away and revealed herself to the Winter Soldier.

“Mr. Barnes?” Wanda asked tentatively, her hidden hand waving furiously at Violet to get moving, “is that you?”

Violet gripped the stun baton, watching in near paralytic fear as those boots moved closer to her friend. She waited until they were close enough, just out of eyeline so Violet could go through with Wanda’s plan. Albeit reluctantly and terrified beyond imagining, but she went through with it.

The Soldier didn’t speak. The only sound he made was the sniffing noises as he took in the scent of the room. Violet had just gotten out from under the bed on the other side when his boots suddenly turned her way. Fuck!

“Mr. Barnes, are you alright?” Wanda asked urgently, tone turning sharper as she began to panic.

He gave no response, taking a step or two towards the other side of the bed.

“Are you looking for Violet?”

Stop. He stopped mid-step. A slight growl. The only warning they had.

He turned abruptly; his boots aimed towards Wanda. She yelped, her socked feet disappearing into the air, and then there was a loud thud followed by garbled whimpers from Wanda. Violet moved quickly. Fuck! He had her pinned against the wall!

“Where is she?” The Soldier asked, metal hand tightening around Wanda’s throat. Her meager, demure hands clawed at the metal. Completely useless. “Where’s my Omega?”

Violet jumped onto the bed. “Right here fuckface!” Then she catapulted towards him.

He turned just in time to release Wanda and catch Violet’s soaring body, but not enough to stop the stun baton from shocking the shit out of his metal arm. He bared his teeth, feeling the pain, and tossed Violet onto the bed. In the back of her head, she noticed it wasn’t the death defying throw he’s used in the past. It was a gentle toss. Like a man playfully tossing his girlfriend onto the bed or when Violet tossed Peter into the pool one Summer. It explained why she didn’t have as much momentum to use once she landed, but it was enough to keep her rolling until she was back on the floor on the other side.

Unfortunately, the stun baton didn’t go with her.

Brightside, it was totally wedged in the Soldiers arm.

He growled, working to get it out as Violet sprung back to her feet and raced towards the door, beckoning Wanda to come with her. Wanda sat frozen on the opposite wall, hands at her throat as she sank to the ground and breathed in loud gusts of air. Violet glanced at the Soldier once more, pondering her chances at getting both her and Wanda out of there together.

Chances that were snapped away as he pulled the stun baton free and threw it against the wall furthest away from Violet, shattering it on impact. Those dagger-like eyes turned back to her. Wanda spoke up from her prone position.

“Run!” she garbled out in her broken, straining voice.

It was the only she could do.

With the Winter Soldier in tow Violet ran like a bat of hell down the darkened corridor, bumping into everything and knocking over various amounts of debris as she did.

Peter and Loki found the first bit of light in the secret passage, and with it a way out. Loki tightened his grip on Peter’s hand, picking up the pace as they ran towards the bit of light. He kicked open the door, shooting out his free hand to stop the door when it threatened to come back and hit the pair of them in the face. Peter hunched in on himself, almost dropping to his knees when he realized what was happening.

The way out was literally a way out . . . outside. Snow was falling, wind biting, and the temperature cold as can be. Trees upon trees, tall hills in the distance. It was like a real-life snow globe he had somehow wandered into. In any other circumstance Peter would be thrilled to see it even though he couldn’t stand or handle the cold. He knew Violet would absolutely love it under different circumstances.

But not now. Probably not ever.

Loki forced Peter to continue standing, grabbing his face and appraising the poor boy. “Can you stand?”

“Can’t h-handle the c-cold,” Peter chattered, his legs giving out with the sudden change.

“Can you hold onto me then?” Loki adjusted Peter, preparing to lift him up and carry him the rest of the way.

Peter simply nodded; afraid he’d bite off his tongue if he tried to talk anymore. Loki quickly pulled him into the warmth of his surprisingly caring embrace and started running. Peter wrapped his arms around Loki’s neck, and head on for as long as he could.

Wanda lay in shock on the bedroom floor. Paralyzed from fear and lost to what was happening. Crashes sounded from the corridors, Violet’s yells quickly following. She could imagine what was happening to her dearest friend. She could see it now. Baron’s disgusted expression as he choked her with her collar. His boot on the back of her head and forcing her to drink from a water bowl. It hurts so bad. She can’t go back to that. She can’t.

Tears fell to the stone mortar as she brokenly sobbed on the floor. Any fight she had disappeared, leaving her hopeless. Waiting to die.

Even with all the debris blocking his way, the Soldier was gaining on Violet and fast. She picked up her pace and pushed forward, knocking things off when she could and digging her heels into the ground to run faster when she couldn’t. From the corner of her eye she noticed that he wasn’t running. In fact, his quick pace was almost calm and methodical as he stalked behind her.

It only made everything scarier.

She had just turned a corner, a last-ditch effort to try and evade him, when a hand suddenly shot out and grabbed her. It pulled her to a shadowy part of the corridor near an entry way. Before she could fight back or scream or do anything, The Captain’s face appeared with a finger pressed to his lips. Balmy blue eyes intense as he reached down to grab a weapon from what appeared to be an ankle holster.

Another stun baton. How many of these did they have?

“Get back to the main room, wake up Natasha, and get out of here.” He nodded down the black corridor, “follow the way and it’ll lead you there. Hurry!”

“Your arm,” Violet whispered, shocked at the state of it.

He had tried to hide it, but there was no point. The state of his shirt alone was enough to alert Violet to how bad off he was. What was once white was now littered with red. He sighed, handing her the stun baton. “It’ll heal.”

She didn’t take it, “you can’t fight the Winter Soldier with one arm and no weapon.”

“I’m not fighting him; I’m buying you time.” He responded fiercely, shoving the baton against her chest while checking down the opposite corridor. “Go before he gets here.”

Violet grabbed the baton, but she didn’t move, “why the fuck are you helping me? I called you a hypocrite, a bastard, and whole bunch of other things before unleashing the Winter Soldier-”

“You told us the truth, and it was what we needed to hear. What we needed to know.” He glanced down at her side, the one that held the terrible mark. “And you had every right to do so. The Soldier coming out is not because of you, it’s because of HYDRA. Now go before it’s too late.”

“HYDRA?” Violet pressed, but Steve shoved her away, happy to see she took the baton with her.

“Go!” He shouted, and then ran down the opposing corridor just in time.

The Soldier had just turned the corner, and Steve attempted to tackle him to the ground. Violet ran away in the corridor Steve pulled her into and pressed onward with all her might. It didn’t take her long to reach the main room, the one she had just escaped from a matter of minutes ago, but she wouldn’t have guessed that based on the state of it. It looked a bomb went off with wrecked it was.

She could tell where Steve had been thanks to the massive puddle of blood. A pang of guilt and confusion welled in her chest as she glanced back the way she came. She shouldn’t have left him, but she should have. Right? This dude bashed her brother’s body in and helped kidnapped both her and Peter. He was also borderline helpless with his arm being all fucked up, yet he gave her his weapon and stayed back to buy her time. It couldn’t have been a ploy, right? Some weird trick to get back at her for giving them Hell. Right?

She didn’t fucking know anymore.

The bar was completely destroyed. Bottles of wine and liquor shattered and leaking onto the broken debris and stone mortar. The fireplace was still intact so that was good. The couches were in rough- Oh shit.

There was Natasha!

Violet raced over to her but stopped short. Apart from the growing bump on her head, Natasha appeared to be mostly okay. No broken bones or blood puddles, slight contusions on her hands and forearms. Defensive wounds. She really put up a fight. Violet had a slight problem though.

Should she even wake her up?

If Peter were with Violet right now, then this was quite possibly the perfect opportunity to book it. Throw caution to the wind and make a grand escape while everyone was busy detaining, or really surviving, the Winter Soldier’s rage and destruction. All the same, Peter wasn’t with Violet, he was with Loki in a secret tunnel or making their own escape right now. Should she be doing the same?

Definitely. Yes, she should definitely attempt some form of escape right now. But how? She didn’t know the way out and trying to find it could put her back in the Soldier’s crosshairs. If she kept pondering instead of running, then that would most certainly do the same. She glanced at Natasha again, weighing her options. Ultimately, it came down to this. If Peter wasn’t with her, Violet wasn’t escaping.

With a groan of defeat, Violet leaned down and tried waking Natasha.

Peter was absolutely frozen to Loki’s body. Everything was a mesh of white to him. Fuck snow globes and fuck Winter. Why couldn’t the Avengers have taken them to Malibu or Australia or some place on the equator? This was torture. Totally lost to the world, he didn’t realize that Loki was taking them to the Quinjet. Not the Avengers Quinjet, a different one. He didn’t notice Jarvis leaving the jet, or how confused he was at the sight of Loki carrying the frozen Peter towards him.

He didn’t hear their ensuing conversation, but he did hear this.

“The Soldier is on a rampage. Until he is stopped and Tony’s out of his rut, Peter and I will stay with the Guardians.”

The Guardians? Who are the Guardians? And what about Violet?!

Sadly, though he tried desperately, Peter was unable to get a word in. Stuck in his embrace, Peter was carried further into the blanket whiteness, worried and panicking beyond imagining.

Violet shook Natasha. Patted her face. Slapped her face. Tried talking to her. Even screamed at her. She thought about using the stun gun, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Unlike her captors she wasn’t a sadist. Nothing. Natasha was not waking up. Fuck. Violet sighed, scratching her head and looking around the room for any other ideas. Juice. Her glass of juice she was drinking earlier. How the hell did that survive the destruction? Violet shook her head. It didn’t matter, it wasn’t important enough to find out. She quickly grabbed it and with a sick sense of glee she knew she shouldn’t have, Violet splashed it on Natasha’s face.

Still nothing. Fucking Hell.

Maybe she could go find another place to hide?

She sighed, rubbing her face with the heel of her hand. What now? Should she try slapping her again?

Something broke behind her. A clinking sound that came when someone stepped on glass. The same sound she made when she re-entered the room. No sound followed it. Eyes widening, body tensing, chest constricting painfully.

Oh no.

Her time was up.

. . . Well, here goes nothing.

She tightened her grip on the stun baton, took a deep calming breath, and turned wildly. She didn’t really have a plan here, acting on gut instinct to jab The Soldier and hopefully make another run for it. Maybe she’d get lucky twice?

Nope.

With the speed of a striking cobra, The Soldier grabbed Violet by the wrist with his metal hand, then pulled the stun baton out of her grip with the other. Once her weapon was gone, his human hand grabbed her by the front of her shirt and pulled her close. The metal hand released her wrist, and then he stared.

Violet didn’t realize how . . . big he was in comparison to her. 6’5’, easily 200 lbs. of pure muscle and that was without the weight of the metal arm. A truly hulking, intimidating monster of a man standing tall and hovering over her small form. She hated to think how the comparison would look from a different set of eyes. She already didn’t look healthy. Not like she had drug or alcohol problem, but more like she didn’t get enough to eat. 5’3’, barely 100 pounds, and quite possibly looked like a ragdoll on most days. Even more so with this terrifying figure staring at her.

The dagger-like eyes studied her, pouring over every facet of her face. His metal fingers gently brushed away a stray hair that was stuck to her face, trailing down to caress her jaw. She stared back, scared as can be but steadfast as always. She wasn’t going to back down. Not now. That being said, she did shiver with surprising arousal when those fingers brushed the hollow of her neck.

He made a strange sound just then. It wasn’t a growl per say, but more like a purr. He leaned in slightly, cocking his head curiously.

Then, he pulled at the front of her shirt and abruptly threw her over his shoulder.

She went along with it, not seeing a better option. If this were Bucky, she’d risk pounding his back and kneeing him in the face. Not the Soldier. She couldn’t predict what he would do if she pulled something like that. So, she didn’t fight back. Flashes from the other night where Natasha bathed her came to mind. She really hoped this didn’t turn into that type of situation.

He didn’t take her far. In fact, he didn’t even take her out of the room. He moved around the couch, leaned down slightly to wipe away glass and other sharp debris, and then he gently set her down on what had to be the one table he didn’t destroy in the entire room. Once she was sitting, he pulled back and cupped her face in his hands. The difference in temperature both jarring yet comforting to Violet. A phenomenon she couldn’t explain to save her life. He purred again, those dagger eyes staring at her with . . . she didn’t know what to call it. It wasn’t lust, it lacked the leer. It was something else she couldn’t define. It was soft, or as soft as it could be in those lethal eyes, and surprisingly warm.

What the Hell was happening?

Finally, he spoke, and Violet really wished he hadn’t.

“Take it off,” his eyes shifted to the shirts she wore.

Before she could stop herself, she tried pulling away and shaking her head as she did. He stopped her. Tightening his hold ever so slightly and pulling her ever closer.

“Take it off,” he repeated, tone firmer and harsher than before.

It was just like that night all over again. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a single second. So many times she almost gave up that night. Times she was ready to throw in the towel and be done with all of it. She didn’t though. For one reason or another, she made it through that night. If she could get through all of that then she could make it through this.

For now.

With shaking hands, and deep breaths keeping her nerves steady, Violet conceded to his command and began pulling off the top layer. He released her face, moving to grab her knees and trap them together in his inescapable hold. His dagger eyes retained its intensity, never changing as she pulled off the first shirt, then the second shirt, but she stopped with the third. The last garment providing her any amount of protection. Lip trembling, she looked up at him expectantly.

He nodded to the shirt, grunting softly in response. She looked away to the couch where Natasha lay unconscious, to the corridor where Steve was probably dead, and Wanda was hopefully still in shock and not dead as well. More deep breaths. Keep going.

With a final breath, sucking it in and acting before she could think about it, she ripped the final shirt over her head and set it in the pile she made of the other two shirts. She didn’t look back up, refusing to endure his blatant ogling. His human hand grabbed her chin and tilted her head up, forcing her to do so anyway.

He leaned in close, pressing his forehead against her own. Breathing deep, his human hand caressed her chin before moving in to grasp the back of her neck. His skin brushed one of her scent glands, shooting sparks of unwilling pleasure into her body. She fought to keep them contained, not wanting him to see her reaction like last time. Whether she succeeded or not didn’t matter. While his human hand was caressing her like she was some precious cat or doll or something, his metal hand descended between their bodies and to his groin area.

He started undoing his belt.

Violet instantly reacted, struggling immediately in her panic. She whimpered as he tightened his hold, keeping her in place. Shushing her gently, swiftly pulling the belt out from the loops and grabbing her hands in the same motion. She tried to say something, anything, but every time she tried, he somehow knew it was coming. He stopped her before she could. Looping the belt around her wrists, he pulled it tight and pulled her even closer.

Her legs were trapped between his now. Her face almost pressing against his chest. His human hand tangling in her braids and tilting her head back to stare into his eyes. Her breath was fast and deep, panting as she fought to control her fear and keep it from overwhelming her. She searched those dagger eyes for even the slightest hint of red and hating herself for how devastated she was when she couldn’t find any.

He continued shushing her, oh so gently shushing her has he looped the end of the belt over his hand and gave a slight tug. Then, he pulled her to lay on her left side. Just like before she fought it but caught as she was it didn’t make a difference. Just before she was fully laying down, he grabbed the pile of shirts and tucked them under her head, providing her with a makeshift pillow.

If there is a God, please don’t let this be the moment where Violet loses her virginity and with it her tainted yet hopeful outlook on life.

She bit her lip furiously, closing her eyes and praying for a miracle, for something to stop this. This isn’t the first time her virginity has been in question, many Alphas have tried to take it in the past, but none of them have been the Winter fucking Soldier. The rest were for the most part easily handled and sent packing.

This was definitely not one of those situations.

As soon as she was laying down, he pulled up her sports bra and revealed her scar. She cursed herself and her temper. Fucking Hell! She’s not talking to them anymore. From now on, Peter or Wanda are doing the talking and she’s going to sow her mouth shut and be done with it. Okay that definitely wasn’t happening, but her point was clear-

The soldier leaned down suddenly. Violet had no time to react when his lips-

Wait, he was kissing her. He kissed her scar. Tongue flicking out to lick and cover the deformation with his saliva, his hot breath coating her skin before his lips were back on her. The rare scrape of teeth added to the strange sensation. Human hand gingerly kneading the muscles in her neck despite the precarious positioning, his metal hand running up and down her spine as he lathered up her wound.

Slowly, ever so slowly, her panic and fear melted away. Her mind was a complete bundle of confusion, but her body relaxed all the same. This wasn’t right. This shouldn’t be happening. What even was happening?!

He straightened back up, and with the belt he pulled her with him. In a swift movement, dagger eyes never leaving hers, he pulled off his shirts and tossed them onto the pile, exposing his masculine, movie star chest to her. She tried looking away, but once again he grabbed her chin and kept her gaze on him. He lifted his human arm, turned slightly so his right side was facing her.

There was a scar there. A brand. Not untidy scrawl by someone carving it into his skin, but like a heated, metal brand with perfectly etched in numbers pressed into his skin and left to make its permanent home.

_32557038_

_Alpha-7_

Her breath was taken out of her, mouth dropping at the sight of it. She didn’t see it earlier when he stepped out of the shower. Didn’t see it the other night either. She wondered how she could have missed it, but they missed hers too. If they missed her it was no wonder she missed his.

The shared brand didn’t hold her attention for long. What caught and held her attention were the claw marks where the metal of his shoulder ended. She’s only seen marks like those in movies and tv shows, not on human skin. She couldn’t stop herself from reaching out with her bound hands, but he grabbed her hands and pulled her forward before she could revert back. She touched the scars, a terrible pain welling up in her chest at the rough and frayed texture. His metal hand touched hers, pulling her impossibly closer.

“I,” he spoke suddenly, voice deep and gruff, staring intensely with those dagger-like eyes, “we will never let this happen to you again. We’ll protect you, always.” His human thumb brushed her bottom lip, forehead touching her own with breaking eye contact as he continued. “And we will never do to you what was done to us.”

Finally, finally! She found her voice.

“Why?” She asked meekly, feeling so lost and terribly confused.

“You’re mine.” His lips quirked at that. “You’re my Omega.”

“I’m not-” she desperately tried to negate, voice breaking in different places, but once again he stopped her.

“You are,” he growled, nose bopping her own, “and we’re yours. Yours to use, to command, to do with as you see fit.”

“Never,” she responded fiercely, find the nerve to struggle once more.

“Yes,” he growled, lips brushing her cheek. “We’re always going to be here. Here for you.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I am you,” he squeezed her scar, pulling at her hands to lay them on his brand, “and you’re me.”

She didn’t respond to that, opting to struggle once more. He wasn’t having any of that. He pushed forward and suddenly she was on her back, him hovering uncomfortably close above her. Hands held bound on the table above, she started panting in fear once more, trying so desperately to keep the panicking tears away.

“Violet,” he started, shushing gently as he leaned closer. “I won’t, we won’t ever hurt you like they did. We know that pain, we live with it every day, and we won’t put you through that.”

“You promise?” she whispered softly, the only volume she could manage and the only thing she could think to say.

“I promise,” he breathed her in deeply, “we promise.”

“All three of you?” She nodded to the couch where Natasha’s prone form still lay.

“Yes,” he growled, “all three of us.”

Then there it was, the first shade of red in this whole experience.

“Bucky?” She spoke in relief, her voice gathering more volume.

“Not yet,” he responded, a slight growl to his tone, his grip on her tightening ever so slightly.

“Then what is your name?” Violet asked, surprising the shit out of herself with such a question. Why the hell did she want to know that? Whatever instincts were taking over needed to stop before they took her past the point of no return. “What should I call you?”

He hummed slightly, pulling back an inch to look into her eye. More red started to appear, the silver fought it back as he pondered her question. He hummed once more, leaning back in before whispering to her.

“Yasha. Call me Yasha.”

Then his lips were on hers, and Violet was lost.

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Ftwitter.com%2Fbinarybucky%2Fstatus%2F1023375867739865088&psig=AOvVaw1xQFkXLxVSh8Yb1pljzBOV&ust=1584581564736000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCJCA5sfwougCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAD)

(Yasha's gaze)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun Dun Dun! That was a roller coaster to write lol to be honest I almost split this chapter into two separate parts but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Something about how the crazy action suddenly flipped into this one solitary moment at the end was so beautiful to me and I didn't have the heart to break it. Some might find it a bit jarring and for that I apologize. The next chapter will obviously continue with what's happening in this chapter. Will Bucky break through before his counterpart goes too far with Violet? Will his counterpart, now Yasha, go too far with Violet? Will Natasha wake up just in time? Will Steve and the rest be okay? Only one way to find out ;)
> 
> Again, thank you all so much for commenting! It means more than you can possibly know! If you have any questions, insights, or potential ideas you'd like to see incorporated in the story please leave a comment and let me know! :D You guys are amazing! Thank you again!


	12. Within You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is happening to Violet?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Got inspired and thanks to the Quarantine, here's a chapter! :D Not really sure if I should classify a smut warning in this chapter because it doesn't really go that far but here it is anyway. Hope you guys are doing great! :D Take care!

Chapter 11

Within You

_Violet_

_Main Room_

Violet didn’t know what was going on. She didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to think or say, she didn’t know . . . anything. Her brain was in shambles, her gut a mess of untapped emotions and sensations, and everything that once made sense no longer did. In this singular moment, all Violet could do was feel.

And what she felt were his lips on hers.

It was just like their first kiss. Him trapping her from above with her on her back and the taut muscles of his abdomen just barely brushing the exposed skin of her belly, holding her hands down, encasing her legs with his own. That night Violet was a scared yet determined girl desperately trying to protect her friend all the while convinced these people wanted to murder and torture her like they did her brother. This day Violet was still scared and determined but no longer did she believe they wanted to kill her; a feat she never would have believed possible. Instead, she believed they wanted to do something far worse.

Mate her.

That night James Barnes kissed her, and through her panic and desperation she didn’t realize exactly what happened when he did so. She didn’t feel the overwhelming arousal, the passion that flowed through her during that surprisingly private moment amid all the chaos. During that moment, all she could think and do was get out of there and run.

She didn’t have that luxury now.

Yasha kissed her, lips warm and soft yet firm and unyielding, and she felt was he was doing to her. His metal hand held her bound wrists down, but his human hand caressed her skin with feather light gentleness. He purred, breathing her in as deepened the kiss. The smells of burning cedar and falling rain flooded her senses shocking her to the core. When Bucky was turned on the cinnamon and apples heightened in his scent. With Yasha they disappeared entirely with the overabundance of the other two.

Violet was shocked to find that she liked them both equally. Why the Hell would she like them both equally? What was wrong with her!? What shocked her more was that she liked Natasha’s scent too. Why would she be thinking about this? Then one thought shot through her mind before she could stop it and left her entire being reeling.

James Barnes has kissed her. Yasha has kissed her. Both kisses left her aching with desire that she’s never truly felt before. Would it be the same if Bucky, the man she was coming to know, kissed her? Would it for Natasha?

Why is she thinking about this?! They kidnapped her and Peter, they tortured and murdered her brother and countless other people, they were self-proclaimed monsters, and were proudly intent on keeping both her and Peter for the rest of their lives no matter how many times they try to escape. They were terrible, possessive people that Violet and Peter needed to get away from! She needed to be finding solutions of escape, not thinking about-

His tongue flicked out, begging for entrance. Violet didn’t give it, even in her daze she wasn’t that far gone. His teeth came next, nipping at her bottom lip. She gasped and he took advantage. Tongue slipping inside, caressing her own before going exploring. She whimpered, eyes widening and body struggling beneath him. His human hand gripped her hip and held her down, continuing with his blatant invasion without pause. He lowered his body, further trapping her beneath him.

She forced her head to turn away, a string of saliva coating her cheek as Yasha licked her skin. She breathed in deep, desperately trying to speak. Searching for a way to stop this. Stop him.

“Bucky-” she whimpered rather pathetically.

What has she come too? Pleading for one of her captors to help her when it was said captor’s other personality who was doing this to her. Is this rock bottom?

“No,” Yasha growled, hungrily kissing her jaw. “Not yet.”

“Please stop,” Violet whispered, voice breaking.

Hot breath on her neck, “this won’t take long.”

A cold strike of fear burst in her chest. He was heading for one of her scent glands. He was going to-

“No!” She shouted, using every ounce of strength she had left to fight his hold. He reared back, slight surprise in those changing eyes. There was more red than last time. Much more red. Bucky was fighting back. He was coming back! She shouldn’t be relieved by that, but she was and there was no time to ruminate.

He exhaled sharply, human hand moving from her hip to caress her face and grasp her neck. It wasn’t constricting or painful. Violet took it as a reminder that it easily could be, yet there was no malice in those eyes.

“Yes,” he growled, flinching and jerking his head. “It’s the best way to keep you safe.”

“You promised you wouldn’t do-” she attempted to speak, but with a gentle squeeze at her neck he silenced her.

He growled again, red burning bright as the silver began to wane. “They never mated us. That was their mistake. One we won’t make.”

“I don’t want this!”

“I know,” his course thumb rubbed the hollow of her throat, “he wants to wait.”

“Then wait,” Violet pleaded, “listen to him!”

He shook his head, “they don’t control me anymore. You matter more.”

“Then why would you hurt me like this?” She cut through, staring deep into those changing eyes. “Why would you ruin me?”

His expression softened, “this won’t ruin you-”

“You don’t know that!”

“I do,” his lips quirked up, staring at her with what looked like adoration, “you’re too strong for that.”

“Am I?” She whispered pitifully. “Am I strong enough for that? Honestly, I don’t think so.”

He cocked his head slightly, “you survived them. You can do anything.”

She took a deep breath, “bullets, fights, pain, death, Alphas, and kidnapping I can handle because I’ve been through it, all of it more times than I care to admit. What you’re planning on doing, I’ve never been through. I’ve always fought them off before it got to that point.” Her voice shook, shame filled her chest as the first tear fell. “Based on how the last few times went with Natasha, I don’t know if I can handle it. I really don’t.”

The red and silver stopped moving. Both colors still as the grave. It gave Violet the feeling that both Bucky and Yasha were paying rapt attention to every word she was saying. It made her feel . . . she didn’t how it made her feel. It wasn’t a bad feeling or even a good one. It was like the devil and the angel on her shoulder watching her every move and helping her decide the right path, but in this case it was more like an unrestrained yet protective demon versus a demon plagued by his own demons whilst trying to be better than he was.

All this time Yasha was still on top of her. Chest to chest, metal hand keeping her bound hands trapped above her head. She still struggled beneath him, but the attempts were as pitiful and pathetic as the small, meager tone of voice she took with him. Explaining the best she could without allowing another tear to fall.

“Throughout everything that’s happened to me, this is the one thing that hasn’t changed. Through all the death, all the pain, and everyone that left me behind for one reason or another, this has always stayed true. Please don’t take that away from me.”

Still. So still he remained. Her bottom lip trembled, but she stared back determinedly. He took a breath, brow furrowing slightly. He stared intensely, appraising her. Deciding.

He leaned back in ever so slightly, “when you are ready, and you will be ready, call out my name.” His nose touched hers, breathing her in once more. “Call out my name and I will be there. I’ll watch over you, I’ll protect you, and together we will mark you. Claim you. Bury ourselves deep inside of you. Find a home within you just as you’ll find one in us. We will you make you see stars, just like the ones in your eyes.” He stopped, human hand leaving her neck and grasping her jaw and brushing her bottom lip. “Promise me you will, and I will stop.”

Breaths deep and fast, “will Bucky be in control?”

Did she seriously just ask that?

“Yes,” he responded firmly, no nonsense.

“And she- she won’t go too far?”

What the fuck was she doing?!

“She won’t,” he responded in the same tone, “we make sure of that. It’s part of the arrangement they made a long time ago.” He leaned in once more, the red and silver motionless and still. “Do you promise?”

With a racing heart, a jumbled mind, and crumbling resolve, Violet whispered, “I promise.”

In an instant, the silver was gone. The dagger-like eyes were no more. Only crimson remained.

Yasha was gone, and Bucky was back.

“Bucky?” Violet breathed in relief.

His firm expression gave way. The cold and stiff nature of Yasha melted as Bucky, the dominant part of himself, emerged. He physically shook himself, eyes checking his surroundings before landing on her and their positioning on the table. His eyes widened, and immediately he pulled the pair of them up. Him standing tall, her still sitting on the table with her legs trapped between his, though not as trapped as they were before.

“Violet?” He pulled the belt off her wrists, releasing her from her bonds and cupping her face in his hands. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she quickly assured him, shocked to realized that she cupped his hands with her own. “You didn’t hurt me.”

He breathed deep, forehead touching her own once more, “Did I do anything-”

“Not to me, well nothing too extreme to me anyway, but that was him not you.”

He growled, “what did he do?”

“Fucked up the place, knocked some Avengers unconscious which is super cool for me, choked out Wanda for helping which is super not cool to me, and then made out with me for a bit. Starting with my scar-” Violet leaned back and showed it to him before thinking about how that could be a terrible idea.

He pulled back, gazing at the brand with hatred before returning her attention to her. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why? Did you send a bunch of HYDRA goons after me?” She responded in a shaky voice.

“Of course not-”

“Then on that front you don’t need to apologize, including for whatever the Soldier did today. That’s on me, not you.” Violet assured him, biting her lip before continuing. “I’m sorry for making him come out. Not for the shit I said before that because those rules are bullshit and all of you needed to know that-”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he responded intensely, pulling back to allow those crimson eyes to stare into her own. “You told us what we needed to hear, and no one here will fault you for that. I guarantee it.”

“We’ll see,” she pulled back slightly, relieved beyond imagining when he let lean away. “Mind if I put a shirt on?”

Wordlessly, he grabbed at the bundle to the left of her on the table and tugged out the first one he touched. It was the grey one Yasha ripped of only moments or so beforehand. He straightened it out, fixed the arms, and then carefully placed it over her head and on her shoulders. Just as quickly he helped get her arms through the holes, straightening out the shirt until it was hanging haphazardly on her thin frame.

He grimaced at it, “I’ll find you a better one-” he was saying when Violet cut him off.

In a shocking move Violet stretched up, wrapped her arms around his neck, and hugged him like she hugged Peter after she woke up in the Med-bay from being shot by Kilgrave. Tightly, warmly, and unknowingly emanating pheromones that projected safety. Pheromones that drowned out the fears and the doubts Bucky was struggling not to get lost in. He returned the surprising hug with equal vigor. The cinnamon and apples returned to his scent while the burning cedar and falling rain faded to the background without fully disappearing.

“I’m glad you’re back,” she found herself saying without her permission, “he’s really scary.”

He tightened his grasp, “I’m here. I won’t let anyone hurt you, myself included.”

“I know,” she whispered, eyes wide with shock.

That’s it! Violet was done! She didn’t know how she was going to do it, or what it would take to do it, but no more! Her gut instinct has officially led her astray and her mind is all sorts of jumbled because of it. None of this shit is making sense. Going all soft and pliant over an Alpha, one who kidnapped her no less, has never happened to her and shouldn’t be happening at all! No more closeness, no more sexual advances, no more of any of that except with Peter. She didn’t trust any of this shit, not with her gut and body taking over and leaving sense to flail about in the wind while the rest went on a rollercoaster ride of untapped emotion she never wanted to experience.

Oh God, what if she reacted this way towards Natasha? If that happened Violet would start looking for a shovel and just end it there. Even with both Bucky and Yasha’s promises to keep her safe and keep Natasha at bay, the moment that woman caught even a hint of arousal from Violet was the day Violet was completely doomed and done for. There wouldn’t be any saving her at that point because her brain would be gone and buried in the earth somewhere. Natasha was a cat in heat and when she thought Violet was ready there would be no stopping her.

No stopping her at all.

Speaking of Natasha.

“You two are adorable,” came her sultry voice from the couch.

Violet’s eyes popped open, quickly landing on the beaten Alpha who was now sitting up from the couch, but not without difficulty. The huge bump on her forehead Violet saw earlier had swelled even more in the short time that has passed. She gritted her teeth, bruised hands pushing her body up to a standing position, the burnt sienna not once losing focus on Violet.

“Holy shit,” Violet cursed, pulling away from Bucky’s tight embrace, “you’re awake?”

“Not without some difficultly, I’m afraid,” she smirked, but it didn’t hold the same sardonic punch it normally held.

Bucky released Violet and practically vaulted towards Natasha, gingerly grabbing her arms and leading her towards the table where Violet was sitting. Violet hopped off and instinctually helped her. This instinct was rooted deep in her system thanks to helping Wanda with all the patients at the Omega house, so thankfully it wasn’t something new and a reflection of whatever was going on with her right now. This felt like the Violet of old, before all this shit with the Avengers came rushing into her life, and that eased her worry a bit.

Even though Natasha was an Alpha, and she hated Alphas on principle, she wasn’t the type to stand by when someone needed help. It was a good sign. She wasn’t getting completely sucked up by . . . whatever was happening to her. There were still bits of her that haven’t changed. She intended on keeping it that way.

“Thank you,” Natasha spoke softly, bruised fingers trailing the back of Violet’s hand as the the Omega abruptly pulled away.

“Thanks for helping me get Peter out here,” Violet responded in a stiff tone, taking a few steps away from the two as she rubbed the back of her neck.

“I did it for you,” Natasha pressed, lips curling into a small smile. “I’d do anything for you.”

“Except letting me and Peter go,” Violet shot back.

The smile grew, contrasting wildly with the pained look in her expression as the bump continued to swell.

“Will you go check on the rest? Make sure everyone is okay? I’d like to talk to James about what happened before we do anything else.”

Violet nodded, already walking away, “sure thing.”

With that, Violet practically flew out of the room, breathing in the first breath of semi-free air as she did.

Natasha watched their Omega run off, her smile growing as she did. So amazing, so sweet, so . . . inexperienced. Natasha purred at Violet’s aroused scent, taking in the berries and allowing it to fill her to her core. Grabbing James’ hand, she gripped it tightly before looking into his scared crimson eyes.

“What did I do?” He asked in a dark, self-loathing tone.

“Knocked Thor unconscious,” she gestured to the bar area where he undoubtedly still lay, “nearly maimed Steve, and gave me a solid headbutt, knocking me out for a few minutes.” She squeezed his hand when he bared his teeth, growling incessantly. “Violet was able to wake me up by splashing me with juice and then you showed up.” She grinned, happy as can be.

Bucky was terrified as can be.

“Why are you smiling? I could have kill-”

“No,” Natasha shook her head, “you couldn’t have. He couldn’t have.”

“Why? How could you-”

“Because he’s like us baby,” she let out a giggle of glee, “he loves her too.”

She dug into her pocket of her specially made leggings and pulled out her phone. On the screen was a microphone, a big red dot, and a number counter. A recorder. Natasha pressed stop, and scrolled it back, and handed it to him with a smile. “Before you say anything, I didn’t plan this. Once I saw that he had arrived, I was prepared to use your shutdown word just as you instructed me to do so when you gave it to me. Then I saw how he looked at her, how soft he was with her, and this idea came to me and I’m so glad it did.”

Abruptly she turned on the table, setting the phone down between the pair. “This is proof baby. Proof beyond a shadow of a doubt that, with her, we don’t need to worry about him. She’s safe with him, with all three of us.” She took a breath, cupping his face and keeping his gaze on her. “I know how reckless that decision was but trust me when I say I only did it with the best of intentions, and I was prepared to stop him the moment it went south. I promise. Violet’s safety and wellbeing are my top priorities.”

Bucky breathed deep, desperately trying to stay calm while looking deep into his lover’s eyes. He trusts her. Not a day would go by where he didn’t trust her. No matter how angry and appalled he found himself with her, none of that changed.

But that didn’t mean she would escape his wrath for willfully endangering their Omega.

“I understand your reasons, and I will trust you until the day I die. You still shouldn’t have done it though. The moment he showed up, the moment he touched her, you should have stopped him.”

Natasha nodded in understanding, “I accept the punishment you’ll give me for my callousness.”

“Which will happen after you punish me for failing to stop the Soldier from breaking loose.”

Natasha sighed, “One full day for each person you hurt?”

“Two if they were an Omega,” he added in a harsh tone. Natasha knew it was directed at himself. She kissed his cheek in assurance.

Then she pressed play, and patiently explained everything that happened on the recording while soothingly stroking the back of his neck. When it got to the tougher parts, he bristled with unbridled hatred. Then towards the end, with promise he offered Violet, he looked so lost in his rage and about to strike out, until Violet’s voice spoke.

_“I promise.”_

Bucky’s heart melted.

“Don’t you see baby,” Natasha whispered. “He stopped. He listened to her and gave us the best gift we could have asked for.”

“He gave her a choice she couldn’t refuse,” he growled, but there was no heat in it.

He stopped. The Soldier, Yasha stopped. Something he’s never truly done before, not without certain commands or the shutdown word. Yasha stopped . . . for Violet.

“It doesn’t matter because it’s her choice, just like you wanted. Her choice when to be mated, and all three of us will be there to take care of her. To love her and dote on her.” She grinned, kissing him eagerly despite the pulsing brain in her head. “Don’t you see baby?”

“See what?”

“Mating her isn’t a dream or a far-off distant hope anymore. It’s inevitable.”

And with that she kissed him once more, and finally he kissed her back. Both Alphas basking in their Omega’s aroused scent. The scent Yasha brought forth and left for them to enjoy.

In the back of Bucky’s mind, Yasha lay in wait for his Omega’s call.

Meanwhile, Violet found Steve in an unconscious heap and drug him to the nearest bedroom which just happened to be hers. Wanda was sobbing into Jarvis’s shoulder when the pair entered, speaking kind and assuring words to her. Jarvis turned his attention to Steve while Violet rushed to pull Wanda in her arms, apologizing for being a bitch as they both cried into one another’s shoulders.

Loki was trying to get in contact with Clint and Rhodey, the missing members of the team who had apparently left to get drinks before the mishap, or disaster might be a better descriptor. Peter was swaddled with blankets and drinking hot chocolate next to a woman with a kind face and big, doll-like black eyes. She kept asking if she could pet his hair. He let her. She seemed really nice.

So many people were around him. Loud booming voices and complaints filled the jet, but Peter didn’t notice. He didn’t even care. He just wanted to see his sister alive and well, unmated and untouched.

Then he was going give her Hell for pulling the stunt she did, and this time he wasn’t going to back down. No more was he going to allow her to take the punishment while he ran away in fear. No longer would he let her take care of him if she wasn’t going to let him take care of her.

Peter Parker refused to a cinnamon roll where his sister’s safety was concerned. Not anymore. He promised himself that over another sip of hot chocolate.

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.quotev.com%2Fstory%2F11233675%2FIf-You-Fall-Bucky-Barnes-X-Reader&psig=AOvVaw2fOnEVBJ8-oYdAzhywF1Qv&ust=1584744760420000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCODn_9rQp-gCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAK)

(When Bucky comes back)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.cinemablend.com%2Fnews%2F1675090%2Fwill-the-spider-man-movies-tackle-how-the-battle-of-new-york-affected-peter-parker&psig=AOvVaw30ymddetQoMY_K2syyfUVN&ust=1584745035670000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCPiOx8nRp-gCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAX)

(Determined Peter Parker)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like Violet was able to wake up Natasha after all. For shame Natasha! Leave Violet be! With that in mind, what do you think is going on with Violet? How do you think this will play into what happens in the future? What punishment will Bucky and Natasha dish out to one another for their misdeeds? What will happen when Peter and Violet see each other again? Will Wanda be okay? So many questions! :D I really hope you guys enjoy the chapter! Stay safe out there!
> 
> Please leave a comment and let me know what you think! :D:D:D
> 
> You guys are the best and as always thank you so much for reading my story!


	13. AWLTT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violet interacts with a slew of different people and learning surprising things about herself in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEADS UP! This chapter is LONG!!!! Be prepared! Hope you all are doing great! Please stay safe out there! :D I hope you enjoy the chapter!
> 
> P.S. There's probably a lot of grammar mistakes in here and I'm just going to apologize for them now.

Chapter 12

AWLTT

_Five Days_

_Day 1 = Aftermath – Caravan Place_

It was three days after everything that Violet found the guitar in the study, and since then she and Peter have been playing music and laughing nonstop. Grunge, folk, blues, pop, it didn’t matter. Every genre was covered, every song they could think of every movie theme they could think of, Violet played it and Peter joined in with off key vocals and unhelpful drumbeats with any miscellaneous item he could find.

It was the most fun they’ve had since waking up in their newest prison, though it wasn’t enough to distract them from just how stuck they were.

That first day Peter and Loki quickly returned to the castle after Natasha called the Guardians and gave them the all clear. Peter stormed into the castle intent on ripping his sister a new one until he walked in on her helping Steve steady his almost maimed arm while Jarvis cuddled with a sobbing Wanda on the couch in the main room. Peter noticed neither Natasha nor James were anywhere in sight before surging forward to give his friend a hug.

So many things he had wanted to say to her, give her the Gibbs head slap, and so much worse, but the sheer determination melting with relief at the sight of him made him melt too. Everything he planned on doing and saying to her would have to wait. Instead of giving her Hell, he simply hugged her and stated in a firm tone, “do not ever do that to me again.”

“I’ll try not to,” she whispered in his ear, tightening her hold on him, “I’m sorry.”

“No sorry,” Peter growled, or at least attempted to growl, “it’s you and me to the end. Either we run together, or we stay and fight together. No exceptions and no loopholes. Got it?”

She sighed, tucking her face into the crook of his neck. “Got it.”

And with that, they hugged for a few more minutes until Steve cleared his throat, and Violet got back to work. Peter took off the jacket one of the Guardians, or whoever they were, gave him before going back out into the cold with Loki. Once he did, he took over for Jarvis and pulled in Wanda for a hug. At the sight of her, Peter understood why Violet pushed him into the tunnel instead of letting him stay. Wanda was a mess and if The Soldier had squeezed even an ounce harder, he probably would have crushed her trachea. With how hard it was for her breathe normally, there was a chance he probably did.

Violet helped Steve get his arm to a stable condition, quickly finding a pulse in his fingers and doing her best to keep it and him stable. It wasn’t his first rodeo in this type of condition, he’s had more than his fair share of battle wounds, but the nervousness never fully goes away when death was right around the corner. When she wasn’t checking his pulse and keeping his arm still, Violet held his free hand and comforted him. Not because she wanted too, but because she saw the fear in those balmy blue eyes.

If The Captain was scared, everyone should be scared, and Violet wasn’t having that.

Also, he protected her, gave her his weapon and distracted The Soldier so she had more time to run. He didn’t have to do that, and she didn’t have to do this. Just like him, she was going to do it anyway. With a gentle squeeze, Violet offered him assurance, and he took it with a soft smile. Chest flooding with warm content.

Loki’s phone was practically molded to his ear with how often he was on it during the turbulent day all the while tending to his Alpha who had yet to wake up. Who he was calling, neither Peter nor Violet knew, but based on the harrowing situation they both assumed he trying to contact a Doctor.

They were right.

It wasn’t until a few hours later, but eventually a Doctor did show up. A whole team of Medical personnel flooded the castle and set up in the Alpha bedrooms. Steve’s, Thor’s, and Jarvis’s, along with Violet’s room and a few of the professional’s went into Tony’s room to check on him. Thank God he didn’t get free when the Soldier was out. That would have ended terribly.

They were set up in a flash, no more than 10 minutes tops. The Doctor finally showed his face and introduced himself in an arrogant tone of voice that ironically seemed unintentional. “Hello, I’m Doctor Stephen Strange and I’ll be taking care of you today. Will all injured parties please go to your rooms where my teams can get started? I’ll be with you as soon as I can.” Then all the injured parties were taken to the rooms and essentially gone for the evening.

Violet and Peter were the only ones left in the main room for approximately five minutes when in wandered Clint Barton and Col. James Rhodes dragging in crate after crate of beer and liquor. They took one look at the main room, eyes wide with shock and confusion, before landing on the two Omegas. “What the Hell happened?” Barton asked, tone sardonic and confused.

“The Winter Soldier beat the shit out of everybody and whoever is still standing gets to clean up the wreckage.” Violet responded in an equally sarcastic tone, cocking an eyebrow at the man as she pointed the plethora of crates. “Give us a beer and we’ll tell you more as we clean up.”

Clint and Rhodey diligently helped Peter and Violet pick up the mangled pieces of debris and stacking it off in a corner where it’s unlikely to be bumped into by anyone. The wooden debris was stacked with the rest of the firewood, glass and similar debris were swept into multiple piles before being picked up and thrown into the trash. Violet pulled on the rest of Bucky’s shirts at the table before clearing off that surface too. Once clean up in the main room was mostly done, the four stopped for that beer break and both Omegas filled in the Betas on the details of what happened during their beer run. Finishing the explanation with Violet showing off her scar that started the whole thing.

Clint shook his head, “fucking hell kid, what have you not been through?”

Violet shrugged, “Sex.”

Both Clint and Rhodey spit out their beer. Peter reached out a hand, high fiving her. “Good one.”

“Hell yeah,” Violet winked, taking another sip.

Clint wiped his mouth, “not for long. Tasha will make sure of that.”

Violet rolled her eyes, “she can try.”

“Oh, she will, and knowing her she will succeed kid. You might want to just accept it and move along with the process.”

“You know her?” Violet asked, ignoring the rest of the comment with every ounce of will she has.

Clint nodded, “met her when she was still in training. Wouldn’t have guessed it with how poised and sure she was. She was leagues ahead of the best agents in that program.”

“What program?” Peter asked, cocking his head slightly.

“The Black Widow program, the ultimate training facility for covert spies. Tasha is the only one to graduate with the program’s name. That’s how good she is. The highest honor that can be received.” He took a sip from his beer, waving a hand in front of him, “don’t ask me how she earned it. I’ve learned to steer clear of topics that concern her past affiliations. I suggest you do the same.”

Violet took note of that. “At least tell me why she’s so . . . touchy. I swear I haven’t been able to spend more than a minute in the same room as her without her trying to feel me up in some way, shape, or form.”

Clint snorted, “don’t mention it to her because she might just rip my head off, but it’s because of the program. Touch is form of rebellion for her. During the training the only touch she got was from sparring sessions and the like. It’s also one of the main ways she learns things. She’s a very hands on person. Taking notes, playing different roles, etc.”

“So, in the program she was denied touch? That’s what you’re saying?” Violet pressed, brows furrowing.

Clint nodded, taking another drink of his beer. “More like forbidden to touch. It was a distraction from the greater purpose, and the handlers couldn’t have that. Only in specific areas did they permit it, and that was in sparring and other forms or physical activity.”

“How do you know all this?” Peter asked before Violet could.

Clint shrugged, “I was sent by SHIELD to kill her. I ended up making a different call.” He took another drink of his beer. “More so I asked her about it, and she told me what I told you. She told me that was all I needed to know, and that was that.”

“That’s that?” Violet pressed in disbelief, “you didn’t think to ask her more?”

Clint shook his head. “She’s saved my ass more times than I could count. She says a lot of stuff, but her actions mean a thousand times more. I trust her. If she says that’s all I need to know, then it’s all I need to know.” He smirked suddenly, pressing the tip of beer to his lips. “Though if you asked her, I have no doubt she’d tell you more.”

“Why? Because she wants to get in my pants?”

“Its probably part of it, but kid she also chose you. You’re the only person here that has chance of breaking through those walls and finding out who she really is.”

“I really doubt that,” Violet grated, taking a drink of her beer.

“You’re their chosen and there’s nothing you can do to change that.” Rhodey finally made his opinion known. Taking a deep breath and glaring at both Omegas before continuing, “look no matter how much you hate this situation neither of you can deny that you were chosen by them and now you’re stuck here. You can fight, you can submit, you can do both far all I care, but at the end of the day it’s up to you to decide what your life is going to be like from here on out.”

“And how are we supposed to do that exactly?” Peter shot back, “how can we live a life when they have no problems drugging and kidnapping us, and then whisking us off to foreign countries where we could easily freeze to death?” Peter shivered for added emphasis.

“Believe me, it won’t always be like that.” Rhodey answered quickly, “It’s an extremely rare occurrence when someone attempts to invade the tower. It’s even rarer when someone actually succeeds. This was a mighty overstep, but everyone agreed it was in our best interests to lay low and find a safe house.”

“And they chose . . . wait where are we? No one’s actually told us yet.” Peter inquired.

“My bets on Norway. This place practically screams ancient Viking culture.” Violet cut in as she took another sip of her beer.

“You’re right,” Clint winked, “about 30 miles out from Oslo.”

Violet and Peter looked at each other, trying not to lose their shit. “I really hate being right.” Violet shook her head in disgust.

“Like I said, they overstepped.” Rhodey shrugged.

“If that’s overstepping, I don’t want to know what you consider over-doing.” Violet rolled her eyes, polishing off her beer and gesturing towards the hallways. “C’mon, there’s more shit we need to clean in the hallways.”

With that, the four worked together and finished cleaning up the broken debris throughout the castle. Once they were done, they teamed up and started rebuilding the bar. Clint and Peter read the instructions and helped organize potential pieces and tools that were needed while Rhodey and Violet did the manual work. Peter jumped in occasionally to help, but for the most part he stayed back with Clint whose leg was still healing and prevented him from doing more.

It ended up being a surprising bonding experience for the betas. Rhodey initially didn’t care for Violet due to her brash ways and angry attitude, but once the angry line between her brows dissipated and she calmed down with it, he found her to be particularly helpful and surprisingly useful. Most of the Omegas he’s encountered in the past really lay into the helplessness and vulnerability of their second nature in hopes of finding an Alpha to take care of them. Others have put on the façade of self-reliance before ultimately revealing the same pattern as the former.

Violet wasn’t like that, and neither was Peter. The kid was a cinnamon roll, but Rhodey could see there was more spice than meets the eye with him. His indifference for the two vanished, a curious expectation taking its place. What would become of the pair?

Clint was over the moon for the two. Unafraid to trade quips and jibes, the two were a riot and a much-needed breath of fresh air. Violet’s sarcasm rivaled his own, though he suspected she was laying it on thick to prevent dealing with what happened with the Soldier. She didn’t appear hurt, but something else could have happened instead. It wasn’t his place to ask. Peter was quick as a whip, and sweet where Violet was spicy. They balanced each other out. Clint liked seeing that. He did see a problem with their closeness though. Recognizing how impossible it would be to split them up due to his own experiences with Laura and Phil, Clint knew that their Alphas were eventually going to have to get cozy with one another because there was no splitting them up now.

They were bonded for life.

They finished up with the bar well into the night, and instead of searching for their rooms or finding the Omegas a place to sleep, the four of them grabbed the blankets, pillows, and cushions from the couches and slept in the newly cleaned main room. Rhodey was out like a light, Peter was too, but Violet and Clint stayed up in darkened room.

Violet stared unblinkingly into the flames as she lay on her belly facing the fireplace. She only grabbed a blanket, one she rolled up into a ball and used as a makeshift pillow. Both Rhodey and Clint had a single cushion and blanket to use. Clint suspected she would add it to Peter’s blanket and cushion fort if he shivered in his sleep one more time. Her arms were crossed in front of her and pressed the blanket further in to rest her chin on. Back slightly arched, ankles crossed and up in the air.

She didn’t look tired. She looked . . . scared.

“The only way life will be a cage is if you let it be,” Clint found himself saying, grunting slightly as he shifted his position on his one cushion.

Her lips quirked, “I don’t know what that reminds me of more. Maya Angelou or the Beatles.”

“Beatles all the way kid. All the way.”

Violet chuckled, “you’re not so bad, Clint.”

“Neither are you,” he quickly responded, “and before you go asking how I ended up in the Avengers Mafia I’m going to stop you first. Get some sleep, and I’ll tell you another time.”

“It was a woman, wasn’t it?” She cut in with a smirk, looking at him from the corner of her eye.

He smirked in return, “yeah it was.”

“She still there?”

“Yep, got a few kids with her, and a husband too.”

“How does that work?”

“Pretty simple. I fell in love with a woman who wanted nothing to do with me, and a good friend I was working with at the time helped me earn her love while unknowingly earning mine as well. Things got a little tense, a Midsummer’s Night Dream and all that shit, but eventually the three of us realized that it just wouldn’t work without all of us. We were better together then we were apart. So, we stuck it out, and now we have two wonderful kids and hopefully a third one will be on the way soon.”

“And it works?”

“It does,” he nodded, “and it was through that process when I met Tasha, and then everything with Barnes happened, and then suddenly we were an integral part of the Avengers. Or at least I think that’s how it happened. I’ve been hit in the head too many times so sometimes my memory’s all wonky.”

“Bucky?” Violet lost her smirk, “what happened with him?”

Clint shook his head, “you’ll have to ask him. Now go to sleep.”

She sighed, looking back into the flames. “I don’t sleep. Not really.”

He straightened up slightly, “me neither.”

And for the rest of the night, no one said a word.

And sure enough, the next time Peter shivered, Violet gave him her blanket.

_Day 2 = Why Can’t I Touch It – Buzzcocks_

Not much happened on Day Two.

The Doctor was still a no show, the ‘patients’ were still in ‘surgery’, and the four in the main room were woken up by the Guardians. Well, Rhodey and Peter were woken up by them. Clint and Violet were still very much awake and too wired to sit still any longer.

And what a rude awakening it was for the poor souls who actually slept.

“Hey! Arrowhead!” An angry, growling voice boomed throughout the main room, “where’s your boss?”

“He doesn’t have an arrow for a head. Why would you call him that?” Came another voice. This one deeper, gruffer, and more confused.

“Because the idiot uses a bow and arrow like he’s Robin Hood or some shit,” replied the first voice in its angry tone.

“But why would he use that when our weapons are vastly superior?”

“How the Hell should I know?!”

“Because you have tape in your satchel.”

“Why would that matter?!”

“It means you have everything, and by extension it means you know everything too. That includes the answer of why he would use such an archaic weapon when we could easily loan him one of our infinitely more enhanced weaponry.”

The angry voice groaned in annoyance, then they appeared around the corner.

The first to enter was most definitely the owner of the angry, frustrated voice. He was a short man, around Violet’s height but with the big and bulky boots he was wearing he had a couple of inches on her. Big eyes, bearded face, and unkempt dark brown hair contrasting wildly with his extremely pale demeanor. Muscles bulged through his skintight clothing, and when he abruptly ripped off his gloves his hands were covered in grease and all sorts of callouses.

The second to enter was an absolute giant of a man. Definitely taller than Bucky and Steve, bald, dark tan skin completely covered in tattoos. Tribal tattoos that covered every inch of his torso. Random tattoos that were placed sporadically on his arms and abdomen. Violet could say that with certainty because the man was not wearing a shirt. Snow was still melting on him; his nipples were rock hard and completely on display. The physique that belonged in a body builder’s wet dream.

An angry chihuahua of a man versus the living Adonis from tribal culture. Not the weirdest combination Violet has ever scene. She lives in New York after all. Weird comes with the territory.

“Where the Hell is your boss, and who are these jerkoffs?” The angry man stepped forward, gesturing to Violet and Peter.

Violet cocked an eyebrow. “We’re captives, and their boss is currently in a rut and hopefully fucking himself into an early grave. Now who the Hell are you assholes?”

The angry man turned his attention to Violet, “Captives? Huh? Must be the newbies.”

“Unfortunately, now who are you?”

The man looked at her, appraised her unwavering stance and fierce demeanor. “Name’s Rocket. This big lug of a gym freak behind me is Drax. Don’t get on his bad side or he’ll force you into doing reps with him for a week.”

Violet nodded, “Got it. I’m Violet, that’s Peter.” She gestured to her brother, who stretched from his makeshift bed and waved at the visitors. “What brings you both here?”

“The heater’s out in the jet and we’re almost out of fuel. We need to get permission from the big boss for my whimps of fellow teammates to stay in here while I fix it up.”

“Consider permission granted,” Peter yawned and scratched his head.

“I’m sorry, are you the big boss?” Rocket snarked, cackling in a mocking tone.

“If the Big Boss is Tony Stark, then you can consider me as such since he’s forcefully put a claim on me, fully prepared to mate with me, and officially make me not only his Omega, but his Chosen as well.” Peter shot back, a surprisingly steely look in his gaze.

Aside from the parts about Tony, Violet couldn’t help but feel impressed by her pseudo brother. She turned her attention back to Rocket who looked just a hair shaken. “Are you going to need to help fixing up that heater?”

Rocket shook his head, “not anyone here who could help me.”

“Want to bet?” Violet stared back unflinchingly, stepping forward to stare him down.

“Oh, you think you can help me?”

“I think both of us can,” she gestured to Peter once more, “besides it’s the least we can do after you guys helped Peter yesterday.”

Rocket gnawed on his lip, looking back and forth between the two before settling on Violet once more. “Are you sure you’re an Omega? Cause you don’t act like one at all.”

Violet shrugged, “unfortunately, I’m pretty sure. I’m just a freak of nature where my second gender is concerned.”

“Same here,” Rocket nodded, exhaling sharply before waving the two over, “get some shoes and start moving. Let’s see how much of a front you’re putting up or if you really know your shit.”

“Your teammates can hang out in here with us.” Clint finally spoke up, lifting his glass from bar he was perched at with a thoroughly surprised Rhodey. “They’re going to want to bring blankets and such with them though if they’re going to stay the night.”

“Are we really letting them do this?” Rhodey cut in, gesturing to Violet and Peter.

“They’ve been cooped up long enough, the blizzard has died down, and the jet is almost out of gas. Their Alphas are out of commission and there’s nowhere for them to go. They’ll be fine.” Clint argued back, winking at Violet before taking a drink of whatever he had.

Violet returned the wink before helping Peter get bundled up, then the pair left with Rocket while Drax stayed behind to share a beer with the ‘arrowman’.

The jet was amazing. High tech, colorful, and full of so much character. There was clutter, trash heaps, posters, CDs, cassette tapes, clothes strewn about carelessly. Everything Violet has been dying to see without even realizing it. The cleanliness and organization of the Avengers was such a culture shock to her that she almost melted to the floor with relief at the utter disarray that was the Guardians.

Peter Quill appeared to be a human highlight real of funny and bad decisions. Prototypical handsome dude with a charming smile and leering eyes. He too was tall, and muscle bound though not nearly as much as Drax, Bucky, and Steve. All around classic pretty boy with a cocky attitude. Violet was keen to ignore him until he started singing, “Come and get your love,” and dancing around like an absolute buffoon. Arms outstretched and turning in circles without a care in the world, it reminded her of Central Park and dancing in the rain with Peter, Foggy, Karen, and Matt after a particularly rough day.

With that memory, she smiled and decided to give him a chance, especially when she saw his mate.

Gamora was a force not to be reckoned with. Dark steely gaze, still and smooth in her movements, weapons on display and ready to be used. Violet could tell by looking at her that this woman was a killer, and a damn good one at that too. Beautiful just as she was deadly. Like broken glass on a hardwood floor.

The two really complimented one another. He was soft where she was hard. Loud and showy versus reserved and quiet. Laughing and joyous versus steely and angry. He was Peter Pan while she was his shadow, always together and loyal to one another. It made total sense that they were mates.

Mantis was a doll of a woman. Big black eyes, kind and happy smile, so curious and full of wonder while fragile to the touch. Violet was having a heart attack just looking at how helpless she appeared, but she wasn’t. She could feel in her heart that she wasn’t. No, she was worse than that.

She was innocent.

When Peter and Violet arrived, the occupants of the ship greeted them like they were old friends they haven’t seen in the longest time while jokingly giving Rocket hell for the state of the jet.

“You don’t like it, go fix it yourself!” Rocket growled as he and Violet prowled past them.

“Hello Peter Parker,” Mantis greeted Peter with open arms and a warm hug. “Who is your friend?”

“This is Violet, and though we might not be related, she’s actually my sister.” Peter gestured toward Violet, who gave her a two-finger salute.

“Oh! So, you’re the new Omegas!” Quill sat down on the nearest table, fiddling with his cassette player, “please tell me one of you knows how to fix a cassette player? Rocket won’t do it anymore.”

“Stop taking it on missions and maybe I’ll fix it for you!”

“But I need my tunes!”

“Then download Spotify on your phone!”

“It’s not the same!”

“Not my problem!” Rocket finished the shouting match by throwing a random projectile at Quill.

It was an oily gear.

Quill flipped off the angry man while Peter stood in Mantis’s embrace completely dumbfounded. Violet rolled her eyes and grabbed the cassette player from Quill’s hands, pouring over it in haste. It didn’t take long to figure out what was wrong with it. “You got a cotton swab, or something to clean this with?”

Magically, Gamora appeared with a cotton swab. Violet took it, popped open the back, cleaned up residual residue and carefully checked the tape before closing it and pressing play.

 _“And it feels so real, I can see it,”_ suddenly played through the connecting headphones, and Quill freaked out.

“Holy shit!” Big boisterous boom of a praise, “thanks!”

Violet shrugged, “no biggie. Nice song choice. Buzzcocks are totally underrated.”

Violet saw Quill gasp just as she turned back to Rocket, “where’s the heater?”

For the rest of the day Violet helped Rocket not only with the heater but fixing other parts of the jet as well. Peter spent time with Quill, Gamora, and Mantis and properly got to know them this time. He thought they were insanely cool, even though Gamora slightly terrified him with her fierce demeanor. Quill was like a big kid and dancing around like the world was his oyster. Mantis was sweet as can be and totally oblivious to everything occurring outside of her own little world. Peter envied that. Life would be so much easier like that.

Violet and Rocket really got along, which didn’t surprise either of them. Rocket reminded her of Frank if he were two feet shorter, and Violet reminded Rocket of his sister who died in a drunk driving accident. Gone before her time, and right around Violet’s age too. He couldn’t help but be a little scared that maybe that was her fate too.

“How did you guys get mixed up with the Avengers?” Violet asked once they took a break and sat down. “First, how did you guys get together anyway?”

“Well, we were all in prison for one thing or another. We banded together for a jailbreak, realized we’d be safer sticking together than breaking apart and going our separate ways, and that’s how it’s been ever since. Mantis ended up joining later on when Drax killed a guy for drugging her drink at a bar. We found out she didn’t have anyone to take care of her, so we took a vote and now she’s one of us.” He grunted in annoyance, grabbing a box fill with junk and rifling through it. “We got caught up with the elitist Alpha pricks the world knows as the Avengers because we were at the wrong place at the worst possible time. We were spotted by some cops and found refuge in a church of all places. One where Tony Stark and the rest of his upscale brigade were currently hiding too.”

Rocket tossed Violet gear after gear, “make yourself useful and do something with those would ya?”

“Sure thing,” Violet started tinkering, “so what happened next?”

“A win-win situation,” Rocket growled, “one we took full advantage of.”

“Because it was either that or go back to prison?”

He smirked, “you get it.”

“So how did it play out?”

“Well, we needed resources and a backer. They needed a team they weren’t affiliated with to do missions they couldn’t afford to be recognized on. We do that we get to stay together, stay out of prison, and get the best toys to play with.”

“And consequently, you’re on their shit detail?”

He laughed. Harsh and cruel, but still a laugh. “are you sure you’re an Omega?”

“Positive,” Violet smirked, “are you sure you’re an Omega?”

He laughed again, harsher and colder than before, “not anymore.”

Violet froze. “What?”

“I used to be.” He shook his head in disgust, “spent four years as one until my seventeenth birthday. I was captured by a cruel and unbearably naïve scientist while spending the summer with my uncle. He was inspired by HYDRA and their fucked-up idea of the perfect specimen bullshit. He took me, held me captive for weeks, and turned me into an Alpha.” Rocket smiled at this point, “and when he was done with me, successful in the transition, he was foolish enough to let me go.” He laughed once more, ripping apart a broken stereo, “boy did it feel great to rip that bastards throat out.”

He looked up at Violet, measuring her reaction to him, “can you guess what happened after that?”

“You went to jail for his murder. Didn’t you?”

Rocket nodded, “they didn’t care what he did to me. They only cared that I killed him.” He exhaled sharply, dropping the broken parts in the box and clasping his hands in front of him. “What the Hell have you been through kid?”

Violet dropped the parts he gave her back in the box, turned slightly, and lifted up her shirt to show him the scar. He stared wordlessly at it while she started talking. “My Dad died when I was eight, my brother Billy was tortured and murdered by the Avengers on Halloween when I was thirteen. I’ve been assaulted, attacked, and nearly mated more times than I can count. I’ve tried helping other Omegas get away from abusive Alphas and sometimes succeeded. This happened,” she pointed to the scar, “but I don’t remember any of it other than running and hiding in a junkyard with a few other girls. Now me and my brother have been kidnapped by the same people who tortured and murdered my actual brother who also want to mate with me and proclaim me as their chosen.” Violet lowered her shirt and grabbed the gears once more, “how about you?”

Rocket laughed, “you’re lucky kid.”

Violet looked at him like he was crazy, “how?”

“I don’t know this from experience, only from what I’ve been told.” He pointed to her scar, “what you got there is merely an entry mark. The thing all prospects get before they’re categorized and determined where would be the best fit. That’s when they mark you next with a serial number.” He leaned forward slightly. “The beginning number for each serial determines where the subject goes. 1 for breeding purposes, 2 for sex changes, 3 for weaponization, and 4 is auction.” He paused, appraising her before continuing. “When each subject goes in, they’re marked with the first half of their serial number, and once the process is done, they get the second half.”

Violet leaned back slightly, “I don’t have one.”

“Which means you got out before they could do anything to you,” Rocket nodded, failing to hide the small smile in his expression, “like I said, you’re lucky.”

Violet didn’t feel lucky.

The pair went back to tinkering and talking about random shit, bonding even more as the time passed by. It was starting to get dark outside when Peter found them building a motorcycle from the spare parts in the box.

“Hey, it’s time to head back. Rhodey’s waiting for us outside.”

“But mom,” Violet pouted, gesturing to the bike, “we’re building stuff.”

Peter pressed a hand over his over, “I’m so sorry sweetie pie, but Uncle Rhodey is concerned that you haven’t eaten since yesterday and wants to remedy that before the rest of our captors find out.”

“You took it too far with the uncle thing,” Violet grimaced, shaking in disgust and making Rocket laugh.

“C’mon, let’s go. I could use a beer.”

With that Violet, Peter, and all the Guardians ended up in the main room eating smoked salmon, chopped red potatoes, and sautéed greens. Once again, Violet didn’t eat that much, and this time it happily went missed because Drax was an eating machine. He ate the majority of her plate before anyone noticed. Then they all drank together with Rhodey and Clint, and Violet surprisingly had a good time. The perfect distraction from their current situation.

She and Peter huddled together on his cushion and blanket fort, and both fell asleep well into the wee hours of the morning without a care in the world.

_Day 3 = Lost Stars – Maroon 5 (Keira Knightley)_

Day three Violet woke up before everyone else, including Peter who was still out like a light. Everyone else was in a similar state. It couldn’t have been an hour or so passed dawn based on the light pattern from outside, meaning she was only asleep for a couple of hours tops. With everyone in this state, she gingerly got out of bed so she didn’t wake Peter and went exploring through the castle.

She didn’t venture into any rooms where the doors were closed. She took different hallways then the ones she used when fleeing from Yasha. She did find the kitchen though, surprised to find a team of people inside. At the sight of her they all bowed like she was the fucking Queen and asked if she needed anything. She shook her head before turning on her heel and bolting.

Next, she found a massive dining hall built to entertain guests of the most established reputations. Ornate furniture, sterling silver, shining chandeliers. Way too much for Violet and her apparent aversion to cleanliness. She didn’t mind clean, but this place was out of its world clean. It was uncanny, intimidating, and more than Violet wanted to deal with. There was a ballroom attached to the dining hall, and Violet didn’t dare go in. Every other place in this castle look like the prototypical castle form Viking times. These two rooms were straight out of the Italian renaissance.

And that was how she found the study, fleeing from the utter elegance and brilliance of the two rooms and finding relief in the clutter that she wandered into. The room looked straight out of a movie. Two stories high, a spiral staircase directly behind the oak desk the lead to the bridge connecting the two floors up above. Papers and books were strewn about the floor, rich and warm colors decorated the room in form of rugs and artwork. It was such a pleasant change to the upscale finery throughout the rest of the castle. She turned in a circle to appraise the room, and that was when she spotted the guitar laying motionless atop the desk in the middle of the room.

She was surprised she didn’t notice it before, and yet she wasn’t. It was dark in color, blending with the desk extraordinarily well. The style was simple and straightforward, contrasting wildly with the rest of the scheme in the castle and the Avengers themselves. Violet moved forward before she realized what she was doing and took the guitar from the desk.

It was covered in dust, meaning it hadn’t been used in some time. Glancing around the room she realized the study was in a similar state. When was the last time someone was in here?

“Ah,” a familiar voice sounded from the corner of the room, “I see you found Loki’s guitar.”

Violet whipped around, tightening her grip on the neck as she did. Standing proudly and in far better condition than he originally was a couple of days ago, Thor wandered over with a bright smile on his face. “Or rather it was his father’s. He died a few years ago. Murdered by our enemies.”

Violet watched him with wary eyes, “that sucks. Sorry for your loss.”

“It does and thank you.” Thor gestured to her, “you play?”

“Yeah,” Violet shrugged stiffly, “when I wasn’t helping Wanda with the Omega Protection Agency or hunting down dickhead Alphas for Karen at the law firm, I played music on the street.”

“Really? If you wouldn’t mind, I would like to hear you play. It’s been so long since I’ve heard music in this place. Too long.”

Violet, shockingly willing, shrugged and proceeded to blow dust off the guitar. She sat on the table, tested out the strings and tuned them before trying out a few different chords. Once she was satisfied, she returned her gaze to Thor who was surprisingly dumbstruck.

“Any requests?”

He opened and closed his mouth, eyes wide as he stared at Violet. “Are you really going to play?”

“I’m in a shockingly good mood,” she nodded, waiting expectantly. “Anything you want me to play?”

He smiled brightly, pulling out a chair she didn’t see and practically dropping into it, “play whatever you want. Anything.”

Violet shrugged again, testing out some notes for a brief moment as she pondered what to play. Then she began.

 _Please, don’t see just a girl caught up in dreams and fantasies._ She sang, eyes closing at the familiar sounds and texture of the strings. This felt right. It’s been a long time since she’s played too.

And she did play. She played with her heart, losing herself in the music like she always does. Whether she was playing the guitar, the piano, or just listening with headphones jammed in her ears. She played and sang with everything she had, not caring that an Alpha was watching her every movement. Not caring that she was trapped in a castle a thousand miles away from the city she knows. Not caring about anything except how she felt when she hit the right notes, the meaning of the words she sang, and how good it felt to be in this headspace once again.

Too long indeed.

Thor was equally swept up in the Omega’s brilliance. Memories of Loki’s father playing the ancient songs of the homeland filled these lonely halls and rooms with warmth and everlasting love. Love his dear Omega refused to show on more than one occasion until the day it was too late to show it. He knew Loki would not be pleased to see someone else playing his father’s keepsake, but at that moment Thor didn’t care. After years of cold barrenness, the brash and rightfully angry Violet brought warmth back into these halls.

He dimly wondered if anyone else heard it too.

With the emergence of a sleepy yet frightened Peter Parker, he got his answer.

Violet stopped playing at the sight of him, “what’s wrong?”

“You weren’t there when I woke up,” Peter took a deep breath, calming his nerves. “Sorry, I got little panicked.”

“Bad dream?” Violet guessed.

Peter nodded, “you’re playing again?”

She glanced at Thor, “he’s letting me borrow it.”

“That’s amazing! You should play for the Guardians! I bet Quill would totally swoon if you played some Ramones or Joan Jett on that thing.” Peter turned to Thor, “and you can come to Mr. Thor. If you want.”

Thor grinned, standing up from his seat, “I would very much like too.”

And that was the rest of day three. The Guardians, Thor, Clint, Rhodey, along with Peter and Violet just played music, ate some cheese and other snacks throughout the morning and the day. When night rolled back in, they drank wine and beer. Thor didn’t approve of Violet and Peter drinking, but he didn’t stop it for fear of ruining the evening.

Violet and Peter slept in the cushion and blanket fort once more, only this time they company sleeping very close next to their bundle. Drax and Rhodey slept on the outskirts of the group near two of the corridors. Quill and Gamora slept in a bundle blocking the third corridor. Mantis was as close to fire as she could get without risk of burning herself in a blanket fort of her own. Thor, Clint, and Rocket all slept around Violet and Peter’s bundle, careful to keep a watchful eye on the pair and burrow in closer as well.

_Day 4 = Trouble Man – Marvin Gaye_

On Day Four Violet once again woke up early, but this time she didn’t leave. Remembering the fear in Peter’s eyes when he went looking for her, she adjusted her position and watched the fire burn just like she did that first night. She smiled at Rocket, Clint’s, and Thor’s positioning around their bundle, but also slightly confused by it as well.

Why the Hell were they so close? Did Peter take too many blankets?

“Hey kid,” a voice suddenly spoke from behind her, “sleep well?”

Violet looked back to see Steve Rogers in good health and with both arms. Her eyes comically widened at what used to be a completely mangled and nearly severed arm that now barely had a scar. “What the-”

He put a finger to his mouth, “come to the kitchen with me and I’ll tell you all about it.”

He stretched out a hand, implicating for her to take it. She glanced at it, pondering what to do when Peter stirred next to her.

“Violet,” he mumbled sleepily.

“Hey Pete,” she leaned in close, “I’ll be right back. I’m going to get some water or something. You want anything?”

He smiled; eyes still closed. “Pie. I want pie.”

Violet snorted, “Cherry pie?”

“Just like Aunt May makes it.”

Violet rolled her eyes, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Love you,” he mumbled sleepily as she gingerly moved out of the makeshift bed, careful to not step on their extremely close visitors.

“Love you too,” she petted his hair lovingly before turning away.

Steve’s hand was still outstretched, the one belonging to the arm that should most definitely be gone at this point. “C’mon.”

Violet pointed to the corridor leading to the kitchens, “after you.”

He smiled, pulling back his hand and leading the way.

This time, there was no one in the kitchens. Not a single soul. Violet didn’t spend enough time there beforehand to notice that it was just as clean as the rest of the place, and it immediately put her on edge. Steve gestured to a bar stool at the kitchen island as he moved to sit on the other side.

“Please, sit.”

With extreme wariness, Violet did as he bid, glancing around the room for any shadows that might jump out and do horrible stuff to her.

“How are you doing?” Steve asked, voice gentle and balmy eyes equally so.

She stared pointedly at his arm, “I’d ask you the same thing.”

He smiled, “it’s kind of a long story.”

“I’ve been told a lot of stories these past few days, I’m sure I can handle another one.”

“I’ve no doubt about that,” he chuckled slightly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the island. He wore a simple white button down with khakis. Apart from Bucky, Steve seemed the least extravagant out of the Avengers, and that helped ease some of the reluctance she was going through. “But first there’s something I really need you to do.”

Scratch that, the reluctance came back with full force. “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing bad, nothing too personal. Or at least I hope it isn’t,” Steve quickly assured her, “I just really need you to eat something.”

Violet frowned at that, “what?”

He lost his smile, but his expression remained kind. “Violet, you’re not fooling anyone. We know you don’t eat very much, and we don’t want that for you.”

“I’m not starving myself, okay?” Violet shot back, brows furrowing the slightest bit.

“Then how about this,” he held out his hands in a nonthreatening gesture, “I’ll tell you how my arm is as good as new if you eat something for me. Alright?”

Sighing, Violet leaned back and crossed her arms tight over her chest, “does it have to be something I eat, or can it be something that’s . . . easier?”

“Like soup or broth?” Steve inquired; a tiny weight lifted off his chest at her nod. “Of course. Does it hurt to chew?”

“You have no idea,” she smirked cruelly before standing up and heading to the stove. “Where is everything in here?”

Steve followed her movements at a careful distance, minding himself to make sure he didn’t get to close. “Let’s find out together.”

“And while we’re doing that you can start explaining your miraculous recovery and fill me in on everyone else’s progress.” Violet spoke clearly, ignoring the heavy weight in her chest at the thought of Wanda. Both her and Peter shamefully avoided thinking about her these past few days in an effort to forget about everything else. Violet couldn’t hold it back anymore though. She needed to know if her friend was okay. “Especially Wanda.”

“Wanda is making a full recovery, along with Thor as you saw for yourself yesterday. Jarvis has been taking good care of her, and on the Doctor’s orders she has mostly slept since he assessed the damage in her throat.” He took a breath, searching through the cupboard for any broth or soup products for her to heat up. “Natasha and-”

“I don’t want to hear about them yet,” Violet interrupted, climbing the counter and searching the cupboard and pulling out various spices and glaring at the labels. “Can you read these?”

Steve nodded, “what are you planning?”

“Look for Thyme, Oregano, Dried Basil and Tarragon, Cayenne Pepper, then salt and black pepper.” She quickly responded, sliding off the counter and heading towards the fridge.

Steve smirked as he watched her go but conceded and looked for the spices she asked for. Within a few minutes the both presented their findings on the kitchen island, and Steve’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull. He was tasked with finding a few spices while gathered up arm loads of supplies. “What are exactly are you making?”

She looked at him like he was crazy, “soup.”

“For an army?”

“Have you seen Drax eat?” Violet responded, cocking an eyebrow.

Steve backed up; hands upraised. “Okay, point taken. So, you’re going to cook for everyone?”

“Everyone currently sleeping in that room and in need of a desperate hangover cure, yes. That’s including you, but only if you help out.”

Steve smiled, rubbing his hands together in excitement. “I’m a terrible cook, so that makes you the boss. Tell me what I need to do.”

“Look for a cutting board, two cutting knives, and a pot, then wash your hands.” She ordered, a tiny smirk brightening her previously suspicious expression tremendously. “And start talking.”

He chuckled at that, “where to start?”

“Wherever makes the most sense?” Violet cut in as she turned on the faucet and waited for the water to warm up.

“Well, in that case, it all started when Buck and I joined the army. Buck was a few months shy of 17, I was very much fifteen, and the recruiters knew that. Still, they let us in. _Never turn down an Alpha when soldiers are needed_ , the lead recruiter told us when we were in route to the training base. A bullshit explanation if there was any. I’ve been to training bases before with my Dad, and the one they took us to was nothing like the rest. Scientists and Doctors filled the base, and not many soldiers to bunk with. To make a long story short, we weren’t recruited to the Army, we were recruited to be test subjects for a serum that was supposed to make the recipient the ultimate soldier. Buck and I were already in deep, and there was no backing out. After a few months of measuring our skills, or lack there of where I was concerned, they gave us and a couple other soldiers the serum and . . .” Steve shook his head, glancing at his hands momentarily.

“You changed?” Violet guessed, hissing as she placed her hands under the scalding water.

“You have no idea,” Steve smiled, pausing in his search to look at her, “I used to be around Peter’s size. Weight and height. The serum changed that in a matter of . . . seconds.”

Her mouth dropped open, “I really want to ask ‘how’, but I’m pretty sure you don’t know the answer.”

“You’d be right,” Steve exhaled sharply, “Buck didn’t really change though. Maybe a little bulkier, thinned out in some areas, just in case you are wondering.”

“I’m not,” she cut in, grabbing the soap and lathering. “After you guys got the serum, what happened?”

“There was an explosion, everything got destroyed and almost every died. Except Buck and I. The serum saved us. Healed us in no time at all. After that we were able to get in contact with the Commander who originally took us to the base. He came and got us, then took us to a real army camp. Within weeks I was made Captain and Buck became Sergeant Barnes.”

“I don’t think it works like that.”

Steve chuckled, “it doesn’t, and it shouldn’t have happened, but it did.”

“So, you have super healing or something? That’s why your arm isn’t currently detached from your body or some shit?” At Steve’s nod, her eyebrows went into her hair, “what are you guys? Corrupt superheroes?”

Steve chuckled, “just experiments that now exist to be freaks of nature.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “You guys were just kids.”

He gestured to her scar, trying his best not to glare at it, “so were you.”

He turned away just as her starry eyes met his, resuming his search for the items she requested. He felt her eyes on him as he grabbed two sets of cutting knives from the knife block and placed them on the island next to the supplies. “You still haven’t told me what we’re making.”

“Yeah I did, soup.”

Steve smirked, “what type of soup?”

“Roasted red pepper and Gouda,” Violet glanced over her shoulder at him, “that good enough for you?”

“That sounds delicious,” he rubbed his belly and let out a happy growl, “so glad I’m helping.”

“Wait until you’re serving,” Violet quipped, clenching her teeth as she rinsed off the soap in the blistering water. “Did you find a cutting board yet?”

“Yep, got it,” Steve opened one of the bottom cupboards and pulled it out. “Should the water be that hot?”

“Only if you want clean hands,” Violet returned, pulling her hands free and grabbing a paper towel from the stand next to her. “Your turn.”

And shortly after Steve found the appropriate equipment and utensils and washed his hands, the two started chopping their supplies and began cooking soup. Normally the dish would have taken around 40 minutes tops, but since they were cooking for a bunch of potentially hungry people it ended taking closer to 2 hours. The prep was easy even with Violet correcting Steve on how to deseed a bell pepper. The hardest part was the cooking process and waiting for it to finally be ready.

During that time, they mostly worked in silence. Steve didn’t want to push, and Violet wasn’t in the mood to talk. He did put on some music after awhile though. Smooth jazz and solemn blues. He was little nervous at first as his taste in music tended to be old fashioned, but the moment the first note hit all the tension in her shoulders just melted away. When she subconsciously began to sway with the beat, Steve couldn’t stop the smile even if he had tried.

This was something he’s always wanted. Him and his girl cooking dinner together, drinking a glass of wine, and talking about nothing and everything. Listening to music, slow dancing to the beat and laughing in each other’s ears while getting lost in their embrace. A few times over the years he’s tried enacting that vision only to be left severely disappointed. The closest he’s ever gotten was with Peggy, and she laughed him out of the room for the mere suggestion of a slow dance. He even tried with Darcy after they first got together, and she proceeded to light the kitchen on fire, get pissed drunk, and sing the Star Spangle Banner on his balcony.

That really should have been the end of it there, but Steve was stubborn. More importantly he didn’t want to be alone anymore. Sometimes loneliness and isolation make people more susceptible to bad decisions.

Darcy was certainly a consequence of that.

He hoped he wasn’t making the same mistake with Violet right now.

“So how did you and Bucky join the Avengers?”

Steve grinned, turning on his spot on the bar stool to face her cross-legged form on the freshly lean island counter where she had taken residence. “He lets you call him that?”

“More like forced me too.” She glanced him, a curious gleam in those starry eyes. “You’re the only person I’ve heard call him that. Why?”

“Only his friends get to call him that,” Steve shifted in his seat, “and if he wants you to call him that means he’s prepared should things not work out.”

“How do you mean?”

“Buck’s not the type that lets go, neither is Natasha, but he will allow space for a time if he believes it’s beneficial. There were times that we couldn’t be in the same place without ripping each other apart because of our past. He pulls back when it’s needed, lets things calm down on both sides, and then we’ll come back together and talk things out like men. Until you, I was the only person he’d bother coming back to patch things up with. That’s why I get to call him Bucky, and now so do you.”

“Because he’ll come back for me?”

Steve nodded, “I doubt there’d ever be a day he wouldn’t come to you.”

“Natasha doesn’t call him that. She calls him James.”

“That’s because they’re not friends.” Steve started, crossing his arms and leaning on the island counter towards Violet. “As you can tell, Natasha is a physical person. Space and isolation don’t work with her. She settles things with her fists or in bed. That’s how she is. They love each other with a passion I doubt I’ll ever find. Trust each other just as much.”

“But they’re not friends?” Violet finished, gnawing her lip in unease.

“They’ll never be friends, and that’s okay. That’s how they work.”

She groaned in annoyance. “Okay, explain this to me then. What the Hell are Peter and I doing here? What’s our purpose in this whole thing? And don’t say it’s some weird Chosen bullshit excuse because no one has bothered to explain what that really is to me anyway.”

“A chosen is someone we choose to keep us human,” Steve answered in a blunt tone, cutting off Violet’s frustrated tirade, “that’s simplest way I can put it. There’s more to it, obviously, but that’s the crux of the explanation. Buck and Natasha can fill in more.”

“Make you guys human?”

Steve nodded, “when you were at the Omega House, taking care of the survivors and such, how did you feel afterwards?”

Violet pursed her lips, “drained but alert at the same time. It was like reaching the end of a marathon and you’re telling yourself ‘one more turn, a few more steps, keep going you got this’ and then making that turn to realize there were like ten more turns but you couldn’t let your body know that.”

“And how did you get out of that mode?”

“I found a bench or a smooth surface I could lay on, then I stared up at the sky and pretended to see the stars until my mind stopped racing. Then I went to Peter’s apartment and slept on his lumpy couch. The ground felt so much better than that damn thing, but it always put me right to sleep when I needed it most.”

“What about the things you saw? What the survivors went through and shared with you. How did you deal with that?”

Violet stared blankly at the island counter, picking at her nails and biting her lip, “I didn’t I always deal with it, sometimes there was just so much happening that I kind of shut down and focused on getting everyone settled and calmed down. When I could I thought about that Brandon Lee movie, The Crow. He played a musician who was brutally murdered along with his girlfriend. An ancient and mystical force brought him back from the dead to enact vengeance on those responsible for their deaths.” She paused, lips quirking into a slight smile. “He used to say, ‘it can’t rain all the time’. Granted he was literally talking about the rain, but it’s one those things that translates to more than what it’s supposed to refer to. You know?”

Steve nodded, oh so tempted to reach and take her hand. “Do you know what we do? How we handle our bad days?”

Violet shrugged, “burn down apartment buildings? Slice up a traitor?”

Steve ignored the blatant jabs, shaking his head at both. She had every right to say them, and he counted himself lucky that it took her this long before bringing them up. “We don’t deal with them.”

She froze, “at all?”

“At all. We just move onto the next project and keep going.”

“What? Like robots or something?”

“Not robots exactly, more like self-functioning machines that don’t get the liberty to expand their horizons. We’re trained and chained to what we do, and because of that we’ve lost our humanity. That’s why the concept of a Chosen came to fruition. It started with Bruce and Betty. The other guy, Hulk, used to say that even though Betty was Bruce’s girl, he chose her to keep them at bay. Tony ran with the idea and suddenly we all realized one day that we needed one. Someone who can get us back to who we are, or at the very least who we could be.”

Violet started glaring at him. “No offense, but that sounds like another scapegoat. Like if you guys do something bad then it’s ‘the chosen’s’ fault for not making you more human or some shit.”

“I guarantee if one of us pulled that, they wouldn’t be able to walk for a month.” Steve responded flatly, cringing internally as the suddenly change caused Violet to flinch. “When we choose someone, we don’t make that choice lightly. The one we choose is someone worthy of being trusted. Not just us, but by the team and everyone affiliated with it.”

“What’s with the mating thing then? The way you’re describing a Chosen is more like they’re pillars of goodness or something versus the treasured sex objects I keep hearing about.”

“Chosens and mates are actually two different things. Being a mate is part of being a chosen, but it’s not as important. Mating is part of the process to bind the chosen more thoroughly, but it’s not a requirement. You’ve probably heard otherwise because Buck and Natasha are, as I stated earlier, physical beings and are going to want to mate you either way.”

Violet slumped over, digging her hands in her braided hair. “Why did I have to get picked by the sex fiends?”

Steve smiled at that, “despite their faults, they’re some of the best people I know. They just have a lot of shit to work through.”

“Hooray for me,” Violet grumbled, leaning back and hoisting her body off the island and checking on the soup.

Finally, it was ready.

Steve ladled a bowl for them both, and then took a moment to eat their dishes in silence. Steve couldn’t believe it. This was officially the best tasting soup he’s ever had. Violet was quietly slurping it up as she paced around the kitchen, once more swaying to the beat of song that was playing. “Troubleman” by Marvin Gaye. Never gets old. The urge to set his delicious bowl down and take her in his arms rolled through him once more, and he turned away slightly as a result. Instead, he finished his soup and savored the bold flavors as he did.

Eventually, they went back to the main room, woke up the rest of the hungover guests, and led them down to eat the soup as well. Naturally, everyone loved it. Drax kept asking to have more, and Violet gave him the go ahead without a second thought. Steve was squirreled some away so that the rest of the Avengers could try some, leaving the hungover party with a lingering glance at Violet’s teasing expression when Peter begged her to make cherry pie with him.

The rest of day four was spent in that kitchen eating an assortment of Violet and Peter’s creations until night arrived once more, then they all went back to the main room and drank heavily again.

This time everyone gathered around Peter and Violet’s makeshift bed and huddled in close without a care in the world. Both Rocket and Quill added a jacket to the Omegas bedding without a care for themselves long after they both fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning. Clint even had the forethought to move their bed just a hair closer to the fire to help keep everyone else warm as well. At least one body part from the group was either on or touching the bed, and everyone fell asleep completely content.

_Day 5 = Take Me Apart – SYML_

During these four days, Bucky endured his punishment in solitude until Natasha joined him on day three. Strapped to chairs in unbreakable and inescapable bonds, the two endured the punishment they set for one another. It wasn’t a cruel and obscene never-ending sex scene. There was no pain or blood or anything of the like. No, it was much simpler than that.

Back to back they sat, and in front of them were TV’s. TV’s that showed live feeds from discreetly placed cameras all around the castle special thanks to Clint and Rhodey and their quick thinking. Cameras that followed their Omega wherever she went, caught everything she said and did on video and audio. Her laughs, her grimaces, her everything.

And it was pure torture for the both Alphas.

They should be making her smile. Making conversation with her, explaining the rules to her, drinking with her and cuddling at her side as they slept next to a roaring fire. They should be making sure she ate and finding out more of her wonderful talents. They should be doing all of this. And they will.

Only a few more hours and they were free. Free to touch her, hold her, talk to her as they please. They counted down the minutes, the seconds until they could. Until then, they seethed at the sight of the Alphas encroaching on their Omega.

Loki stood at the edge of the main room watching his Alpha sleep with a small smile on his lips.

Wanda was sleeping on and off in her room with Jarvis watching over her with a watchful eye and an adoring smile.

Tony was placed in a deep sleep to heal from his ailing wounds from Violet and complications during his rut and was currently being monitored by a seemingly battle worn Dr. Strange. He should be waking up at any point.

Darcy was being dragged away by masked men through a secret passage of the castle. Still bound and helpless, she was abruptly thrown into the backseat of a waiting car where Pepper Potts and Happy Hogan were sitting, and then she was driven away into the dead of night.

The morning of day five, both Natasha and Bucky were released from their self-imposed punishment. They took quick, uneventful showers, brushed their teeth, and dressed in stylish yet lavish clothing. Bucky in his typical jeans and shirt combo with combat boots, but this time his clothes were all black, and his hair was tied back in a low bun. Natasha dressed as simply, only she wore her high heeled ankle boots with her all black ensemble. Hand in hand they ventured out of their room and towards the main room where their Omega slept soundly with her brother.

As they headed there, Tony Stark emerged from his room with an urgent look in his eye.

“Peter?”

“We’re going to see them now,” Natasha replied, “care to join us?”

He nodded eagerly, and together they surged through the darkened corridors with their Omegas on their mind.

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=http%3A%2F%2Frebloggy.com%2Fpost%2Fbbs-chris-pratt-zoe-saldana-i-should-not-edit%2F93462882138&psig=AOvVaw3cvqg25BZedYNMpwmWihUj&ust=1584937922928000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCKjR1o2gregCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAD)

(My version of Gamora and Quill)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.animatedtimes.com%2Fdave-bautista-gains-extra-he-and-pratt-trolling-at-each-other%2F&psig=AOvVaw10EdduoQtHUOB2wVE_9zMF&ust=1584937993171000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCOjKkKygregCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAD)

(Drax and Quill)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.independent.co.uk%2Ftopic%2FDanielRadcliffe&psig=AOvVaw0BRmtTi9RbUb1OEnZc042i&ust=1584938071397000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCMC5odigregCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAY)

(My version of Rocket . . .completely done with everything)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Fpin%2F629167010416583972%2F&psig=AOvVaw1yfpnixzoBU2FyJbOYbsRJ&ust=1584938194131000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCOiSzY2hregCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAD)

(And Mantis!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! What did you guys think of it? There were a lot of conversations I didn't expect to get into but I'm so glad I did. Writing Violet and Rocket was so much fun to do. I kind of wish I put in more of the Guardians banter, but there will be more to come! Tony is officially out of his rut and searching for Peter! Bucky and Natasha are on the prowl and once again after Violet! Poor girl. What's going to happen?! Let know what you guys think and what liked best about the chapter! :D Your feedback is beyond helpful to my writing. 
> 
> You guys are amazing as Always! Please leave a comment and let me know what you think! :D
> 
> Also, I have weird Alternate Universe idea I thinking about writing if you guys are interested? It'll involve the same characters in this story, Violet in particular, and set in a reality where there are . . .vampires and witches. XD It's just an idea at this point, but if you're interested I'll strongly consider writing it and see how it plays out. Again, thank you so much for reading! :D:D:D


	14. Restless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violet reacts to Tony sudden arrival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kind of rough, both in topic and in grammar. Hopefully it makes sense and isn’t too big of a change. I didn’t plan on going this route when writing this chapter but it ended up taking a dark turn and suddenly it seemed like it needed to go that way. Be prepared, you might not like it. 
> 
> Sorry guys.

Chapter 13

Restless

_Main Room_

Violet fell asleep with nothing on her mind. The feeling of her brother’s face nuzzling her chest, those wavy locks brushing her neck, the drunken stupor she was caught up in, the once terrifying people surrounding the bed, and the warmth of the fireplace filling the room took her to a place she never thought she could reach. A place of comfort. A safe place that left her content and, ironically, at peace. The perfect distraction for both Omegas during this scary situation.

It was naïve of her to believe that she’d wake up to another day without them.

It was early. Another day where Violet only slept a few short hours. It was like she couldn’t sleep past dawn no matter how hard she tried. She wasn’t sure what woke her this time. All she was aware of was one moment she was surrounded in pleasant darkness, and the next her eyes were open and staring at the thin, vertical windows at the far edge of the room. The light from outside was starting to grow, and so was Violet’s alertness.

Peter was still very much asleep, breathing soft and expression relaxed. Motionless and still in her warm embrace. She glanced around their makeshift bedding and couldn’t help but smile at the sight around them. Everyone was asleep and touching their bed like Jack from the Titanic, like they would rather die than watch them sleep alone. Such a sharp contrast to their first night in this room where Violet couldn’t bare to sleep in fear of what lurked in the shadowy halls.

She sat up slightly, itching at the braids that somehow remained intact after the past few days. Then she leaned and stretched out her back, popping it in several places with a relieved sigh. Peter groaned next to her, pushing in close to get back to her heat. She chuckled silently as he smushed his face against her chest.

“Stop moving,” he mumbled sleepily, pressing a little harder.

“If I stop moving then I’ll stop breathing, do you want that?”

“Then stop laughing,” he corrected, sounding very annoyed.

“But you’re so funny.”

“Shut up,” he groaned, pulling a hand free from the blanket hoard he was swaddled in and slapping it over her mouth.

Her chest shook with contained laughter as she pushed his hand away.

“Stop or I’ll throw food at you,” he threatened sleepily.

“Oh, you want to throw food at me?” Violet taunted, a wicked grin spreading on her face. “Race you down to the kitchen.”

With a mighty heave Violet leaped to her feet, grabbing the jacket that was placed on her, deftly avoided stepping on the surrounding members in the room and jumped to sit on the bar counter. Smiling cheekily, Violet waved from her renewed spot at Peter. He sleepily glared at her while she pulled the jacket on, breathing in the calming smell of oil grease and animal fur. Strange combination, but somehow it fit with Rocket’s personality. He was like an angry racoon who kept getting swatted away from his favorite trash heap.

He grumbled to himself, fumbling his way out of the cocoon of blankets he was swaddled in. Violet laughed at his expression. Angry, annoyed, mumbling to himself as he drunkenly stood up on the bed . . . and just as quickly fell over and landed on the brigade surrounding the bed.

With a yelp of panic, Peter landed and instantly there was an uproar. Groans of pain, shouts of surprise, bodies moving to defensive positions. Peter mumbling drunken apologies while trying to stand to his feet only to bump or stand on someone else. Violet was a laughing mess, but once Peter got a little too close to the smoldering fireplace she moved from her spot and quickly made her way over to stop him, hugging him close to her chest and mumbling ‘sorry’ to the people grumbling in annoyance.

“For a morning person you are very cranky,” she joked, leading him to one of the unoccupied comfy chairs.

“For a night owl you’re up way too early,” he grumbled as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to sit on her lap. “Are you farming for corn or something?”

“Nah,” she ran her fingers through his hair, “just digging a hole that we can escape through.”

“Like Count of Monte Christo?”

“One of the only books I read in Mrs. Yang’s English Lit. class.” She confirmed with a soft chuckle.

“What are you doing up so early?”

She shrugged, “I can’t sleep. Figured I’d grab some water or something.”

He hummed, “You’re not used to being cooped up for this long. Are you?”

She thought about that, “you know what I think you’re right. I think the last time I was inside anywhere for more than a few hours is wherever I happen to be during my heats.”

“And school, but that was May last year.” He breathed in her scent, “you’re restless.”

“How can you tell?”

“You won’t stop moving.”

“Sorry for breathing,” Violet smirked at him.

“No, it’s not that.” He pulled back, “it’s like you’re vibrating.”

“What are you talking about?” She barely had time to ask when he gently grabbed her hands and showed her.

Sure enough, they were shaking. Like an addict who hasn’t had their fix in days and was two dollars away from getting the next one. Violet stepped back in surprise, glancing at the rest of her body before glancing back at Peter.

“Is it like that everywhere?”

He nodded, “it was pretty hard going to sleep because of that.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

He gave her a look that questioned her sanity, “like I’m going to let you stay up all night looking after me again while I have a grand old time in dreamland.”

Violet turned her attention to Clint and glared at him. Clint sleepily raised his hands in submission, “kid is slippery, you taught him well. Weaseled the answer right out of me.”

She shook her head in disappointment before turning her attention back to her brother. “You okay if I go get some water?”

“Only if you bring me back juice,” he smiled sleepily, pulling her back in and pressing his face against her belly. “You might want to stretch or something too.”

“Really bad there?” She asked anxiously, the feeling escalating slightly when he nodded. “Okay, well let’s get you back to bed so you can sleep a little more. Cool?”

“Okay,” Peter answered as he let her stand him up and guide him back to the makeshift bed. “Is it okay if I cuddle with Mantis until you get back?”

“It’s fine with me, but make sure it’s okay with her first.” She messed with his hair once more, then turned away towards the corridor that led to the kitchens.

“Love you,” Peter called sleepily.

“Love you more,” Violet returned with a smirk, throwing a pillow that hit his face. She laughed at the disgruntled ‘Hey’ as she left the room.

Just as it was yesterday, there was no one in the kitchen when Violet entered. Someone had recently been through there because the mess everyone had made had been cleaned up. Violet huffed at that. She only left it behind so that she could clean it later.

Maybe she was restless? She didn’t feel like it though. Would someone feel the shakes and jitters that was apparently going through? She didn’t know, and she opted to not focus on it. There was no point. All she could do is get some water, maybe grab some ingredients to make a Bloody Mary to help cure the hangover for the people in the main room and take Peter’s advice and stretch a little bit. Yeah, that’ll work. No flaws in that plan whatsoever.

As a matter of fact, right as she opened the fridge and saw the bottled waters, Violet bent over and touched her toes, keeping her legs straight without locking her knees. It felt good. Burned tremendously from lack of stretching, but it wasn’t terrible. She held the position until she counted to 30, then straightened up and grabbed the two waters.

It didn’t really change anything. Her hands still shook with the same intensity. Biting her lip, she figured she’d give it another try. Rarely does anything work on the first try. This time she lifted her arms high above her head, stood on the tips of her toes and reached, stretching her back in the process. She counted to 30 again before stopping.

Nothing.

She hummed in annoyance, tapping the surface of the island as she thought about what to do next. Perhaps third time’s the charm? It couldn’t really hurt. With a shrug she steadied her feet, threw her arms back and her torso quickly following until her hands landed on the cold floor, positioning her body into an upside-down crab walk. With a deep breath she counted to 30 one last time, then slowly walked around the room in that position for another 30 until she had enough and slowly rolled back up to her standing position.

Again, nothing.

At the sight of her shaking hands, Violet shrugged once more, grabbing the two bottles in slight agitation before heading out of the kitchen area. Strange how performing supposedly relaxing activities could make relatively calm people agitated and annoyed. Maybe it was just her? She was weird after all, and in more ways than one. Maybe stuff like that just didn’t work for her?

Sadly, something else did.

Upon her return, Violet found something she definitely didn’t expect, nor did she want to see. Most of the people were standing with a range of expressions all along the edge of the room. Anger, acceptance, annoyance, and acquiescence. In the middle of the room stood Bucky and Natasha, holding hands and giving the group a look that screamed, ‘I dare you to try and get passed us.’ Steve, Thor and Loki stood on the other side watching with unhappy gazes. Then she set her eyes on what was occurring in the middle of the room. Right next to the makeshift bed where she and Peter had been sleeping for the past few days.

Tony and Peter stood face to face in what used to be their safe space. In the nest that Peter unintentionally created during their unconventional stay while the injured healed and recuperated. Peter was crying, but his jaw was tight and his soft doe eyes were fierce. Tony’s hands, the same hands that Violet distinctly remembered to be pulling at his hair and touching him inappropriately were on his face and caressing his cheek. Wiping the tears away.

“I’m so sorry, Peter. I swear it wasn’t me. I didn’t know what I was doing.” Tony was pleading, voice breaking in random places.

Peter’s chin wobbled, and Violet saw red.

This bullshit? Tony was using those bullshit excuses on her brother?! The same excuses so many Alphas used on the Omegas they abused, defiled, and drove away to find refuge in the Omega house?! Is he fucking nuts? It was the only explanation. Tony Stark was not only a vindictive piece of shit; he was fucking insane!

He would also be dead soon if Violet’s rage had any say, and so far it was definitely in the driver’s seat with her good sense trapped in the trunk of the car that was her brain. A voice screamed at her to remember the conversation she had with Peter, to think about his reaction to this, but then Tony’s thumb brushed Peter’s quivering lips, making him whimper as his tears continued to fall.

Oh fuck no.

Without even thinking, without a breath to even attempt to calm herself, Violet surged forward and grabbed an empty beer bottle hanging out on the corner of the bar. She heard gasps, murmurs of ‘oh shit’, and even saw hands reach out to stop her, but she was too fast. In seconds Violet was right behind Tony, ignoring the surprise and shock on Peter’s face as she grabbed Tony by the back of his shirt and threw him backwards. Then with a strength she didn’t know she possessed, she broke the bottle over her knee, feeling the cracks break into her palm as she surged forward trap him against the bar where he landed and dug the broken bottle into his neck.

The look of fear in his eyes didn’t please her, it just made her angrier. How dare he put someone through such a feeling when he knew it all too well himself? She dug the broken glass in deeper.

“What did I tell you I would do if you ever hurt him?” She spoke in a deep, almost unrecognizable voice. Guttural, instinctual, slow and methodical. It reminded her of Yasha’s actions from a few days ago. That wasn’t a good sign, but it didn’t stop her.

“Violet-” he tried to reason, but with a push he stopped.

“What. Did. I. Tell. You.” She repeated, voice growing deeper. Scarier.

“I’m sorry-” he tried again but stopped when her free hand reached around and grabbed him by the back of his hair and pulled painfully. She had pulled the bottle away briefly before pressing it harshly back into place. She noticed a wet warmth spread around her knee but paid it no mind. There were more important things.

“Answer the question,” she shot back.

“This isn’t you-”

“Just like that wasn’t you?” She interrupted, pulling on his hair even more. “Just like that wasn’t all the Alphas who beat their partners senseless and left them to rot in their own filth? Just like it wasn’t that Alpha who beat their partner to death, leaving them next to the dumpster because they were too lazy to throw them in? The same Alpha I compared you with the day we met at the University?”

“Violet-”

“You don’t have your muscle with you this time, or the fancy suit and tech to send help should I decide to do something? You know what you do have though? That elitist prick between your legs and the arrogance that leads you to believe you can get inside my brother without his permission or willingness.” She let out a short laugh, disgusted and unamused, “pathetic.”

“Stop this-”

“Stop this? No, I didn’t tell you that. Did Peter though?” Her deep, guttural tone made the already cruel comment even more so. “Did he tell you to stop? Did you even try? Or did you get off on it?”

“Violet-” he repeated, struggling beneath her slightly, but she dug the glass deeper instead.

“What. Did. I. Tell. You.” She repeated, tightening her painful grip on the broken glass.

His lips shook, chin wobbling, brown eyes wide. “You said, _“I’ll kill you if you do. Even if it kills me.”_

Violet nodded, “and what would I kill you for?”

He took a deep breath, “hurting him.”

“And what did you do?”

His breathing hitched; expression pained. “I hurt him.”

“Yeah, you did.” She cocked her head slightly, “you said you believed me after I told you that. Remember?”

“Yes,” he whispered, his brown eyes never once leaving hers.

She pressed the glass deeper into his skin, “still believe me now?”

The fear Violet saw roll through him was enough of an answer, and his proceeding silence that quickly followed was another answer.

She had him. Right here in her grasp. All she had to do was press a little deeper, move up and to the left and it would be over. Just like that. Over and done with. Just move!

And she did move, but it wasn’t her hand. She turned her head to the right and saw Peter being held back by both Clint and Rhodey. The kind doe eyes filled with tears. More tears than before. He was surrounded by everyone in the room. Only Bucky and Natasha were out of the image before her. He tried rushing forward, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t strong enough.

He still had his voice though.

“Please don’t do this! Don’t!” He pleaded with her. “Remember what we talked about. Remember what we promised.” His voice broke in so many different places. “I don’t want to lose you. Please don’t make lose you!”

Something in her broke at that point. The rage that got her to this point vanished in an instant. Nothing was worth hurting Peter. Nothing.

With a small breath, she turned back and glared at Tony’s terrified form.

“I guess you shouldn’t have believed me,” and with that she dropped the glass, released his hair, and turned away.

She headed towards the couch, reached underneath it with her left and uninjured hand, and pulled out the stun baton Steve gave her a few days ago. Without a glance at Tony, she headed towards Peter who was quickly released from the betas hold. He almost tackled her to the ground, but she held her ground as she returned the tight hug he encased her with. Tears immediately stained the grimy shirt she was wearing, but neither of them cared. She kissed his shoulder before pulling back, handing him the stun baton as she did.

“If he does anything, shock him in the dick.”

Peter nodded bravely, “I will.” He placed his hand on her shoulder, “I’m proud of you.”

She didn’t respond to that. Instead she pulled him in for one last hug and kissed him on the cheek. “Call if you need back up.”

“Wash up that hand and maybe I will.” He smiled meekly before turning serious. “I got this.”

She nodded, then turned to glare one last time at Tony. “Remember, shock him in the dick if he tries anything.”

“I know,” Peter responded in an equally firm tone, though still a little shaky.

With a gentle squeeze to his shoulder with her uninjured hand, Violet turned back to the corridor that led to the kitchen and walked away.

Her hands were no longer shaking.

Just before she was out of ear shot, Rhodey’s voice sounded off saying, “are we sure she’s an Omega?” Only for Quill to respond with, “dude, she’s what an Omega is supposed to be.”

If that were the case, she would have killed the bastard who hurt her brother, not leave him in a room with his abuser and a close-range weapon that could easily be grabbed out of his hands. As she walked back to the kitchen, Violet has never felt more like a failure. She didn’t kill him which means she didn’t really protect Peter, the only person in this entire fucked up world that she truly trusted. In fact, all she really did was make everything worse and was leaving her brother behind to deal with it.

Why the fuck was she even leaving? Yes, her hand was starting to hurt, same with her knee, but not enough to make her leave. What was she doing?!

Then she was in the kitchen. One moment she was heading for the sink, the next she was sitting on the floor with her back leaning against the island counter and desperately trying to not cry her eyes out. Wrapping her arms tight around her legs, tucking her head against her knees, she focused on breathing deep and slow breaths all the while ignoring the increasing pain in her hand and her knee.

Let them hurt. Let them bleed. She deserved it. Those who couldn’t protect the ones they loved deserved to be punished. She’ll take it without complaint.

She bit her bottom lip. Hard and brutal enough to draw blood. She didn’t care. She wanted to hurt. She deserved to hurt. Her nails dug into each palm, earning a pained sound whimper as she did. She bit harder to stop it.

A warm hand emerged on her neck and before she could react it squeezed. Her head lifted in surprise. Hands shot out and grabbed her flailing limbs before they could connect with anyone. Her eyes searched for the perpetrators and groaned at the sight of them.

“Fucking Hell,” she cursed, struggling beneath their hold.

Natasha was the one to squeeze her neck, and now held her injured hand in the other. The burnt sienna gaze was steely, stern, and austere. Bucky was on the left of her, holding back her uninjured limbs as his crimson gaze burnt darkly. Natasha squeezed the back of her neck once more, earning Violet’s attention.

“What’s rule number one?”

Violet glared at her but saw no point in fighting back at this point. She was already a failure, might as well go all the way. “No derogatory comments about myself.”

“Rule number 2?” Bucky cut in, voice and tone just as stern and dark as his expression.

“No secrets. Complete honesty.” She grated.

“Rule number 3?” Bucky continued, adjusting his position to get a better look at her face.

She didn’t look back. “Favor for a favor, depending on how big the favor is. All in all, do anything the other asks.”

Natasha nodded, keeping Violet’s gaze on her. “And what’s rule number 4?”

Violet’s brow furrowed, “you never told me.”

Natasha smirked, but there was no amusement behind it. “Can’t you guess?”

Violet shrugged, “no failing to protect your friends? No letting Alphas free to do as they please with your brother? No being an absolute fuck up of a-”

“Finish that sentence and you’re going to receive a punishment long before you’re ready for it.” Bucky interrupted, growling as he did.

Violet opened her mouth, intending to do just that, but Natasha released her injured hand and slapped it over her mouth, turning her face back towards her as she did.

“No,” Natasha growled, “it’s not any of those things.” She stopped, taking a breath and looking at Violet’s injured hand. Her hand lifted only to grab her bottom lip and pull it out slightly and just as quickly releasing it. Then she showed her thumb to Violet, the pad of it covered in blood and spit.

Violet glared back defiantly.

“Baby,” Natasha whispered, squeezing the back of Violet’s neck as she did, “Rule number 4 means don’t hurt yourself.”

Violet shrugged, “I deserve it.”

“For what?”

“You fucking saw it,” Violet growled, “I couldn’t protect him.”

Natasha flinched, confusion coloring her expression, “how on earth did you not protect him? You scared the piss out of Tony-”

“And I let him go!” She shouted, leaning forward as she did to get into Natasha’s face. “I let him go, and now he’s free to do it again! Hurt him again, try to rape him again, and it’s my-”

“It is not your fault,” Natasha interrupted, tone fierce and protective in a way she’s never felt before.

“It was weak!” She shouted once more.

“Baby, I know weakness. I’ve seen it in many sets of eyes, and not once have I seen it in yours. Even now. Especially now.” Natasha grabbed Violet’s chin in her free hand, keeping her attention as much as she could. “What happened in there wasn’t weak. It was something truly special that many of us have never been able to do.”

“And what horseshit is that?”

“Mercy,” Bucky answered, crimson eyes burning bright.

Natasha continued without pause, “and mercy takes true strength. Strength from a golden heart like yours.”

Violet shook her head, “I let a horrible man go, and now he’s free to hurt my brother again. If that’s Mercy than it can go fuck itself.”

“Tony’s not going to hurt Peter again-”

“Bullshit!” Violet interrupted Natasha, “he did it once he’ll do it again! Just like the rest! Just like all the Omegas who kept running back crying and bruised to shit, and then once we patched them up they’d go back to their Alpha like they had done no wrong only to come back a few days later and acting like it was something that never happened before even with fresh bruises and more trauma!” Violet screamed, positively fighting the Alphas restraints and letting her tears fall. “It just. Keeps. HAPPENING!”

She clenched her injured fist and attempted to punch herself in the face. How could she be so stupid. Why would she let him walk free? She had him! She could have stopped him!

Natasha caught it just as Bucky pulled Violet’s flailing body into his arms and held her tight against his chest. Arms trapped, body trapped, Violet tried getting her legs under her to help escape his hold but all it did was make the pain in her knee worse. She let out another scream just as Natasha to stand behind Bucky and grab Violet’s face in her hands.

“Listen to me,” Natasha spoke him a calm tone, eyes pained and unafraid of showing it, “Tony is not going to do that to Peter.”

“Fuck off!” Violet screamed, tears streaming down her face as Bucky held on tight.

“No!” Natasha spoke fiercely, firmly, “I won’t. I won’t leave you alone to hurt yourself over something that isn’t going to happen.”

“Why?” Violet asked, intending to add a cruel insult to the question, but Natasha put a hand over her mouth once more as her other hand wrapped around and grabbed her braids.

“Because we’re not going to let it happen!” Natasha growled, intensity pouring from gaze. “We are going to make sure that Tony and everybody on this Goddamn planet can never hurt Peter, and especially you! No Alpha, Beta, or Omega will ever have the chance because they’ll have to go through us, The Avengers, The Guardians, and every fucking person on our payroll before they can ever come close to the two of you.” She took a breath, a grimace of pain in her expression, “do you understand me? Are you hearing me right now?”

Violet started breathing fast. Eyes going wide, breaths coming and going impossibly deep and fast at a pace that made her head hurt. “It keeps happening,” she spoke repeatedly, unable to stop herself. Natasha responded by leaning in close, pressing her forehead against her own.

“I promise you, Violet. It won’t. We’ll stop it form happening. It won’t happen to you both. Not ever. I promise.” Natasha kissed the tears away, fingers tangling in the braids she gave Violet days ago.

“We’re right here doll,” Bucky spoke up, his lips on the hollow of her neck. “We’ll keep you both safe.”

“Breathe with me baby,” Natasha pleaded, looking deep into Violet’s eyes and taking deep, calming breaths.

Bucky loosened his hold the slightest bit to rub her back in time with the breaths Natasha was making. Natasha kept her forehead pressed against Violet’s. Violet acquiesced, but in no way was she alright.

“Why are you keeping all of this to yourself?” Bucky asked once her breathing was mostly under control.

Her lips trembled, “no one ever bothered to ask.”

And then she just cried.

Bucky and Natasha held her tight as rage both rage and sorrow fueled them to the brim.

Rocket and Clint stood outside the kitchen door completely frozen in grief.

Steve stood guard with the rest of the group as Peter and Tony talked things out, his mind completely elsewhere on the girl crying her guts out, all the while completely unaware of what exactly she was going through.

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Fpin%2F623326404657796804%2F&psig=AOvVaw0D_uKl6x6jVzd7g_hgoHLm&ust=1585290082032000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCJjQ1v-_t-gCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAK)

(Trying to calm Violet down)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fthat-sokovian-bastard.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F146526304218%2Fturn-red-bucky-barnes-x-reader&psig=AOvVaw1PYwzye015UE4-NkOsW8rx&ust=1585290178435000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCLjWk6bAt-gCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAJ)

(During Violet's explanation)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that was rough. I promise I had intended so much better and then it took that turn. I do have a question for you though. Why do you think Violet let him live? Was it because of Peter? Was it something else? And what do you think of the aftermath? There are bright moments to come so don’t worry, and aside from the conversation between Tony and Peter, the next few moments I have planned for Violet and the Alphas are tied to a simple phrase. Something I teased a while back but I got side tracked and now I finally have the chance to get to it. 
> 
> Ten Questions. What could that mean? 😊
> 
> Thank you all so much for your comments and feedback! They mean so much to me and I appreciate them beyond all imagining. You are all so amazing and I sincerely hope you’re doing okay during these hard times. 
> 
> As always, please leave a comment and let me know what you think!


	15. Think

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Think before you act.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been so distracted lately. I'm so sorry for the lateness! I'll try to get the next one up soon. My plan is tomorrow night but with the way things have been going I might not make it. I hope you guys have been doing great and I hope you enjoy the chapter! :D
> 
> Also, special shout out to Prettywittybitty! Thanks for the idea :D

Chapter 14

Think

_Main Room_

“What happened with Darcy?” Peter asked in a firm voice, tightening his grip on the stun baton his wonderful and fierce sister gave him.

Peter and Tony sat in comfy chairs facing one another. Peter’s with his back to the fireplace and Tony’s facing it. They were about five feet apart, originally three feet apart, but Peter pushed the chair away to give them more space. Tony didn’t try to move forward, thankfully granting the space Peter desperately wanted. Now the Alpha stared imploringly while Peter retained a stony face, or as much of one he could muster.

The room was empty now. Some of the group went down the corridor that led to the Kitchen where Violet headed, the rest went into the other corridors for various other reasons. Steve made a point to say that he’d be nearby if Peter needed anything, same with Rhodey. Peter really appreciated that. They were both really nice.

Tony sighed, straightening up slightly in his chair and running a shaking hand through his hair, “Darcy is no longer with the group. Happy and Pepper picked her up early this morning to have taken her to a separate safe house.”

“You killed her?” Peter cut in, tone harsh and deep.

Tony shook his head, eyes wide with leftover panic from Violet’s confrontation. “Steve has to be the most stubborn man I’ve ever met and loyal to a fault. Even when he knows he’s in the wrong he’s going to keep pushing if he feels like it’s right. Things between him and Darcy were never going to work out, but he chose her for a reason. I don’t know what that reason is, and I’ll probably never know, but he chose her and because of that we can’t kill her.”

Peter flinched, “why?”

“Because she helped, she served her purpose. For however brief a time it may been, she helped one of our own. Most of us condemn her for her . . . trying nature, myself included, but none of us can deny that. As such, though many want to see her dead, I simply can’t allow that. So, off she goes to live somewhere else with bottles of wine to accompany her.”

“And that’s it?” Peter asked in an accusing tone. “Once something isn’t working out, you just ship them away and move on? How many _chosens_ have you done that too exactly?”

“Ironically, she’s the only one. Since we started searching for our Chosens, most of them worked out extremely well. As far as I’m concerned there were only two others that just didn’t make the cut, but neither of them got this far in the process. Actually, you’ve already met one of them.”

“I have?”

“Yes, her name is Sharon Carter. Steve met her shortly after her older sister, Peggy, pushed Steve out of her life for joining our regime. The two got along, but Steve decided against making her his chosen because he believed her talents were too good to be squandered. Instead of becoming his chosen, she became a real asset to the team. The other was a charming boy named Harley Keener. Smart and quick as a whip, just like you only significantly angrier. He was someone I considered making my chosen, but there was no attraction. No spark. I realized I saw him more as a surrogate son than I did as a chosen, so I got him a job in the experimental department at my company instead.” His dark eyes crinkled with adoration as he stared at Peter. “He’s got nothing on you though when it comes to brain smarts.”

Peter turned on the stun baton and flinched alongside Tony at the sharp crackling sound that emanated from it, but otherwise watched the panic flood through the man sitting before him. “I suggest you refrain from any remarks regarding my body. That includes my brain.”

Tony held up his hands, submissive and nonthreatening. “I understand.”

“Do you?” Peter challenged, “do you understand?”

Tony sighed, shifting in his seat, “I should have been more careful. I should have made sure I was taking my suppressants-”

“I’m not talking about that,” Peter quickly interrupted. “Though you are right in that you should have been careful, there was a lot happening during that time that suppressants would have slipped anyone’s mind. It sucks that it happened, but I won’t fault you for it.” Peter clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on the stun baton. “I’m talking about what happened before.”

Confusion colored Tony’s face for the briefest of moments before cold recognition wiped it all away. He leaned back in his chair slightly as he took a breath to calm himself. “The night after HYDRA invaded.”

Peter nodded, “why did you do it?”

Tony rubbed the back of his neck, “I was scared Peter.” He shook his head, hanging it in shame as he slumped forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “HYDRA might not be the mega-power it once was thanks to us, but they’re still terrifying when they have the right tools. Experimentation, modification, you name it. Barnes knows their cruelty more than anyone, and now Violet-” he stopped, biting his lip before putting his head in his hands. “I heard about what happened earlier this week. The scar on her side. That’s from them, Peter. HYDRA’s calling card.”

A cold shiver trickled down Peter’s spine. It hurt to realize that. It wasn’t overtly surprising given Mr. Barnes’ reaction to the event, but it still really hurt.

“The things that girl, your sister,” he quickly corrected, “has been through are far more than I originally believed possible. To think that you could have been through them too is too much to bear.” He pulled his hands away from his face, revealing the tears that fell from those dark eyes. “So much of what she’s been through is our fault just as much as it is theirs, and when HYDRA invaded all I could think about was how you could have been hurt, how they could have hurt you because of what we did . . . what I did.”

Tony took a deep breath, inching forward the slightest bit in his seat. “I know I shouldn’t have done it, Peter. You were hurting, worried for you sister and her wellbeing. We all were in our own way. I shouldn’t have touched you in that way without your permission. Stopped just like you told me to the day Violet woke up in the Med-Bay.” He took another breath, brown eyes wide and full of sorrow. “I can stop, I have stopped for you and I will stop for you in the future if or whenever I’m doing something that makes you uncomfortable. I swear to you I will, Peter. I swear.”

Peter made a show of tightening the stun baton to scare Tony, though his heart wasn’t really in it. He thought about Omega Night and how scary everything was. He thought about the mangled man on the camera and the things Tony and the rest of The Avengers had done to him. He thought about how, despite that, he still felt comforted and safe when he saw them arrive at the elevator on the roof of the tower. He thought about how the Alpha red in Tony melted away as Peter pleaded with him. How he restrained him and sent him to their floor releasing him when Violet was sick and needed him. How he left Peter and Violet alone until Mr. Barnes and Ms. Romanov came to claim her.

Inevitably, he thought about what occurred between them shortly after.

Peter couldn’t deny it. He was attracted to the man. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally and any other way to be attracted to someone. Yes, there was an age gap with Peter at 19 and Tony in his mid-30’s, but Peter didn’t mind. In fact, it only added to his attraction for him. Experience is sexy.

More importantly, Peter genuinely liked Tony. He liked hanging around him, talking with him, exchanging ideas and working on projects with him. If situations were different Peter could easily have seen himself willfully and wantonly splayed out on Tony’s bed and begging the man to ravage him while blushing tomato red and stuttering the whole time. He could still see it happening now, and that was scary.

What Tony did couldn’t and shouldn’t be forgiven or forgotten just because of Peter’s fuzzy feelings and his . . . not so fuzzy feelings. It was stupid and reckless and flat out insulting. Violet has done everything to keep Peter safe from Tony and the Avengers. If he let Tony off the hook so easily it would be no better than spitting her in the face and telling her she can suck a dick. Violet deserved better than that, and he deserved to be treated better than that too.

Speaking of dick’s, Peter needed to keep his and its effect on him out of this decision-making process. Logic is what Peter needed to focus on right now. Logic will win out.

Peter sat up slightly, looking sternly upon the Alpha waiting for some answer from the Omega.

“I can’t just forgive you for what happened, you know that.”

Tony nodded, “nor did I expect you to.”

Peter took a breath, “but I won’t condemn you for it either.”

Tony straightened up, his mouth opening to speak before Peter raised a hand and cut him off. “I’m not the type to hold grudges. Grudges only serve to chain us to a dark part of our past that’s better off forgotten thus preventing us from moving forward and achieving our true potential. Violet showed me that when we first met. Not intentionally, of course, but it’s one of the first things she’s taught me and for that I owe her my life.” He paused, taking a sharp breath before continuing. “Since you and the Avengers have a set of rules you want your . . . chosens and mates to follow, then I see no wrong in having rules of my own for you to follow.”

Tony pulled out his phone, clicked a few buttons, and then placed in on the end table next to the cushion-less couch, clasping his hands together once he was done.

“FRIDAY?” He spoke firmly without losing his smooth tone.

“Yes boss?” The A.I. answered through the phone’s speaker.

“Please record and document the following statement given by Mr. Parker. Have it printed, notarized, and sent to me so we may both sign it and make it official. Until then, here is my verbal confirmation that I will do my best to follow the rules my chosen has set for me in light of my egregious errors.”

“Understood boss,” FRIDAY’s voice echoed.

Tony gestured to Peter to proceed. He took a breath, hoping and praying he didn’t sound like a completely idiot.

“The rules that are to be stated are a consequence of Mr. Stark’s actions towards myself and my sister, Violet Mason. Should he cause any grief or hurt to me or my sister in the future, then these rules shall be reinstated until I, Peter Parker, lift them. I also hold the right to add or subtract any rule from this official statement to fit future punishments should they occur. This statement can be amended after peer review.” Peter paused, feeling his face heat up with embarrassment. “The rules are as follows.”

Tony sat straight as a board, giving Peter his full and undivided attention.

Peter kept his nerve. “Rule number 1, Mr. Stark may not touch me without my expressed permission. Except for uncontrollable circumstances such as bumping into one another, the back of our hands touching, accidentally stepping one another’s foot, etc. Mr. Stark needs to ask for permission first. Rule number 2, Mr. Stark must make an effort to apologize to my sister, Violet Mason, and make up for his egregious behavior towards her and myself. Rule number 3, Mr. Stark must take his suppressants every day until such a time where it is safe for him to go through his rut when he is not around people he could hurt. Rule number 4, unless my heat occurs after the rules have been lifted, Mr. Stark is not allowed to help me with my heats unless there is an extreme circumstance where Violet and Wanda are not able to aid me. Should that occur he will follow the previously stated and documented agreement concerning my heats.”

Peter took a deep breath, face and palms hot and sweaty. “As of this time there are no other rules to be added. I, Peter Parker, have made my statement.”

“And I, Tony Stark, have heard Peter Parker’s statement and accept my punishment.” Tony chimed in with a jerky nod. “Is there anything else you would care to add?”

“Um yes,” Peter cleared his throat, “apart from Violet and Mr. Stark’s A.I. FRIDAY, no is allowed to enforce these rules other than myself. Again, this statement can and will be amended should necessity call for it. Only I, Peter Parker, can place this punishment on Mr. Stark and only I can lift it.” Peter paused to mouth ‘ _underline it_ ’ to Tony, mimicking the gesture as well. He smirked when Tony nodded and double tapped the phone. “The consequences for not following these rules will be discussed and decided by Violet and myself should the need for it arise.” He paused, jaw flinching slightly, “end of statement.”

“Did you get all of that FRIDAY?”

“Yes boss, would you like me to send it to Ms. Potts?”

“Yes, and have her fill me in on the status of Ms. Lewis as well. I’m sure Peter and Violet would appreciate to hear that she is safe and sound elsewhere.”

“On it boss,” the A.I. answered in her robotic tone before Tony hung up the phone.

“Well put, Peter.” Tony smiled at Peter, but it was a sad smile. Eyes wistful and full of longing. “It’s better than what I deserve.”

Peter cocked an eyebrow, “you have to apologize to Violet after she put a piece of glass to your throat and nearly killed you. I’d say that’s exactly what you deserve.”

Tony shrugged in agreement, “I hope I can make it right by her.”

“I hope so too,” Peter mumbled, standing up carefully from his comfy seat. “I’m going to go check on her if you want to try and apologize now?”

Tony smiled, quickly following suit, “I think it’ll be best to wait until a less– what’s the word– tense time, if you know what I mean?”

Peter smirked, “you mean until she’s significantly calmed down and not second guessing her decision to spare you?”

“You got me,” Tony laughed as he shoved his hands into his pockets, “if I may say so, I think it might be better if you did the same. Let her have some space to calm down a bit?”

“And give Mr. Barnes and Ms. Romanoff a chance to move in on her?” Peter cocked an eyebrow.

“Not exactly,” Tony sighed, “more of like give them a chance to know her better. Help her and learn to understand her. You know?” The wistful look intensified, “just like you gave me one.”

Peter bit his lip. Memories flooded his mind. Memories of the two Alphas and Violet. The way they helped her when Darcy drugged her, carrying her like a sick child and forcing her to purge because it was the best thing for her at the time. The way they helped them both when Tony went into rut. The burning fury in Mr. Barnes’ eyes when Violet showed her scar, the scared yet protective gleam in Ms. Romanoff’s before she helped them both escape and took on her lover, her mate for Violet.

Maybe they weren’t so bad?

Peter shrugged, “I guess I can wait a little bit.”

Some of the sadness left Tony’s expression. “Thank you for considering my suggestion.”

Peter just nodded, “I could probably use a shower or something.”

“You can use the one in our room for which I will not be staying until you deem it appropriate,” Tony quickly finished in a rush, “some of your warmer clothes are in there as well should you want to change.”

Peter smiled, “yeah I think I’ll do that. Afterwards I’ll go check on Violet and see how she’s doing.”

Peter aimed to leave, turning away and heading towards where he thought the room was when Tony’s voice stopped him.

“Um, Peter?”

Peter turned back and looked at him quizzically. “Yeah?”

Tony fidgeted on the spot, looking thoroughly uncomfortable. Like he was trying to stop something from clawing its way out of him when-

“May I hug you?” Tony held out his hands in a nonthreatening manner, “it’s just – the last memory of me touching you is plagued by a cruel act and I just,” he stopped, taking a breath, “I want to erase that. Replace it with something kind and warm . . . if you’ll allow me?”

Peter stared at him hard, thinking about the internal struggle he was already going through. His heart and his dick were screaming at him to just jump the man and make sweet loving, but his brain wanted to gather them both up and throw them in a blender. It was hard to listen to just one over the other when all three were screaming so loudly.

Peter sighed. He doesn’t hold grudges. Maybe this was a good place to start?

“You may,” Peter started, “your hands do not go below my middle back or touch my chest. Also, do not try to kiss me, even my neck or shoulder. Understand?”

Tony nodded, happiness taking over him and causing him to surge forward. It was quicker than Peter expected. Then either of them expected.

Unfortunately, it led them to their current predicament.

Due to Tony’s excitement and Peter’s leftover panic from Violet’s earlier stunt, Peter completely forgot about the stun baton in hand. When Tony advanced quicker then anticipated, Peter subconsciously raised the baton in defense. Raised it up until . . .

He shocked Tony in the dick.

He didn’t realize what he had done until Tony jumped away and howled in both pain and panic. Hands moving over his groin, turning away in absolute and utter embarrassment until he tripped over the chair and landed recklessly on the cushion-less couch. Peter gasped, dropping the stun baton and shouting “Oh my God! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that!”

And then they just panicked until Steve arrived after hearing the commotion with Rhodey quickly in tow.

_Kitchen_

Violet considered it a win when Bucky set her on the kitchen island and released her from his inescapable embrace. Granted, he still had a hold of her legs and currently ripping a giant hole in the pants leg that was covered in blood, but it was better than nothing. Natasha sat next to her on the island after grabbing medical supplies and handing it to Bucky. She held Violet’s injured hand, wiping away the blood and appraising the wound Violet created in her rage.

Apart from that minor victory, Violet felt drained and ashamed.

How could she lose it like that? How dare she allow herself to cry into her captor’s shoulder like they were someone worth leaning on when she wouldn’t even cry into Peter or Wanda’s? What is wrong with her? Was she so overwhelmed and on edge that she couldn’t handle it anymore? Was she that far gone?

She didn’t know. In that moment she didn’t know anything. All she could do was feel. Just like when Yasha held her down to the table those few days ago and made out with her, attempting to mate her. Right now, she felt emptied. Exhausted. Like a New Orleans paramedic running 16 hours shifts during Mardi Gras celebrations. Like a piece of taffy that has been pulled to the point of breaking.

She also felt pain. It didn’t register before thanks to the adrenaline pulsing through her body, but she certainly felt it now. Her knee was burning and hard to move. Her hand was the same but even more so with Natasha cleaning it. There were only a few cuts, but one of them was deep and left a deep gash in her palm. Violet didn’t get a good look at the knee, but since that was where the bottle impacted the most it was a safe bet that it was in worse condition.

She also felt something else. Something warm in her chest. Amid the enervation and fatigue, she felt . . . safe. Almost comforted.

That wasn’t good.

It reminded her of how she willingly hugged Bucky close. How relieved she was to see him after the ‘conversation’ with Yasha. How she . . . reacted to Yasha. The unwitting desire she felt for him, for Bucky. The memory of their kisses and her desires then. The way Natasha carefully held her hand and eased on the gauze at Violet’s every flinch, just as scrutinous in her movements as she was with her ever watchful gaze. It made her feel good despite her weariness.

And that was a problem.

Once the wounds were carefully cleaned and Violet surmised the nasty gash needed stitches, she snatched her hand away from the Alpha and aimed to grab the supplies. Natasha quickly reciprocated by gently grabbing both of Violet’s wrists and pulling them close to her chest. The fabric from her black shirt irritated Violet’s minor cuts on the side of her hand, particularly when she attempted to pull away from Natasha’s chest.

“Let me go,” Violet growled, but there was little heat behind it.

“No,” Natasha responded calmly, shaking her head the slightest bit.

“I can patch myself up just fine.”

“I know that,” Natasha gestured to Bucky with her chin, “we know that.”

“What you need to know,” Bucky cut in gently, catching Violet’s attention, “is that you don’t have to. Not anymore.”

“What if I like too?” Violet challenged, again without any real heat.

Natasha cocked an eyebrow, “do you?”

Violet shrugged.

Natasha smirked, bring up Violet’s hands and kissing the knuckles on both of them. “Please Violet, will you let us take care of you?”

Violet reared back, “you’re asking for permission?”

“Is that really so surprising?”

“Yeah,” Violet nodded jerkily; eyes slightly widened. “If you’re asking for permission that means things are really fucking bad, like world ending bad.” Violet groaned suddenly, “Oh God, did you guys start World War 3 while I was fixing the Guardians heater or making Soup or some shit? Is that why you acted a magician and pulled a disappearing act?”

Natasha chuckled, “we don’t start wars, Violet. We end them.”

“Sure,” Violet tugged at her wrists, “where were you then?”

“Isolation,” Bucky responded, taking her legs and standing up with them in hand, “serving out our punishment.”

A line formed between Violet’s brows, “punishment for what?”

Bucky maneuvered to set her legs down on the island, and Natasha slid off the counter with Violet’s wrists still in her grasp to stand to the right of her.

Bucky sighed, “for my actions as the Winter Soldier. Specifically, for those that I hurt.”

“And mine was for failing to stop him when it mattered most,” Natasha cut in, pressing her lips against his metal shoulder before turning back to Violet.

“But that wasn’t you-”

“Doesn’t matter,” Bucky interjected, crimson eyes intense, “if I can’t keep control of him, of the killer inside of me, then I cease to exist. If I let him loose, run rampant and kill everything in sight, then I’ll never get that control back. He’ll let me die so he can exist, so he can finish the missions HYDRA set out for him long ago. I can’t let that happen.”

He abruptly ripped the pant leg drenched in blood. Before the hole he made was big enough to gauge the seriousness of the wound. Now the hole extended to midway up Violet’s thigh, and all the way to her ankle. Soon enough the bit that was still together at the ankle was ripped too. Then he grabbed the scissors from the kit before nodding to Natasha.

“Lean back,” she instructed, gently pushing Violet back while Bucky lifted her injured leg in the air at a cautious, slow place. Then he set it on his metal shoulder. Violet’s eyes widened at the position until the sound of snipping and she felt a pull of fabric at the back of her thigh. He must be cutting the excess fabric to allow better access.

Shame, Violet liked these jeans.

Violet pulled in her uninjured leg to protect herself from unwanted ogling, but she needn’t worry. Natasha’s burnt sienna eyes were gazed into Violet’s own as her surprisingly smooth hands gingerly massaged Violet’s captured wrists. Bucky’s crimson seemed just as intent on the jeans he was currently cutting to roam over any exposed parts. At least, she hoped that was the case.

Bucky acted quickly, and before long he tossed the blood splattered fabric into the trash bin and set aside the scissors, quickly grabbing the appropriate supplies from the med kit on the ground. Natasha kissed Violet’s knuckles again before doing the same, releasing Violet’s uninjured hand in the process. With one of her hands free, Violet took the opportunity to sit back up.

Now she saw just how badly she fucked up her knee.

It was no wonder it was hard to move. With the force she used to break the bottle she cut her knee all the way to the bone. Grimacing at the sight of it, Violet leaned back and took deep breaths. She knew it was bad. She didn’t know it was _that_ bad. Natasha squeezed her hand.

“Don’t worry,” she said in a calm voice, “we’ll take care of you.”

“Why should I trust you?” Violet countered, glaring at the alpha without any heat. “Give me a reason.”

Natasha smirked, but it didn’t hold the same sardonic nature it usually did. “Because if you do, then James and I will answer any question you desire. Any question,” she emphasized. “In addition, we’ll tell you about Billy and why he wanted to join the organization. Okay?”

“You do realize you should have done that by now, right?”

Natasha made a sound of agreement. “Yes, we should have. A lot has happened since we first mentioned him.”

“Including international travel and smuggling illegal immigrants into foreign countries,” Violet bit back. “Pretty low on the worst things you’ve done.”

“You have no idea,” Natasha winked, playful and coy, “now let us take care of you baby.”

“Stop calling me that,” Violet hissed in pain. Bucky started cleaning the wound. She attempted to look up and see what he was doing, but Natasha leaned in and cupped her cheek, grasping her teeth.

“Please,” she whispered, “let us help you. We know what we’re doing. You are in good hands. You are safe. I know it doesn’t feel like that because of our previous actions just as I know you are more than capable of doing this yourself. We’re not trying to take your autonomy away. We just want to help. Okay?” The corner of her lips quirked, thumb caressing her cheekbone while her other hand squeezed her wrist gently. “Please?”

Violet tried once more to look at what Bucky was doing, but Natasha continued to obstruct her line of sight. Violet sighed, closing her eyes and focused on breathing. Terrible thoughts and sensations filled her mind as she did.

Like the fact that she actually did feel safe with them. The feelings of Natasha’s hands on her. The thoroughness in Bucky’s movements while his expression screamed gentleness. Whiskey and wine filled her senses, and Violet felt lost. Is Violet doomed to feel this way? Forever wandering in a mindless haze of the feelings she kept discovering in their presence. Would she ever find a way out? Could she?

She didn’t know anymore.

_Rochester_

The absolute madman known as Deadpool cackled with glee while spitting out blood and fighting his restraints. The chains he was bound with screeched and scraped against the thick tree he was semi permanently attached too. His mask was gone, revealing the burnt skin and bloody mess his face had become. Teeth stained with blood and battered tongue sticking out as he laughed and laughed . . . and laughed . . . and laughed. For days Wade was stuck there. Days he taunted and mocked his ‘interrogators’. Days he was stuck, chained to the giant elm he was sitting in the canopy of days beforehand.

Now, after a long and arduous process, his ‘interrogators’ finally lost their patience.

Frank Castle was not used to dealing with Wade, and that played in his favor. Logan, however, was all to familiar with Wade’s antics. Instead of mercifully granting the weary soldier immunity, it only made him more impatient and thoroughly more irritable than normal. They should have taken Wade to the Professor. That was the plan anyway. Plans tend to change though, and this one certainly did.

What started as a simple question turned into an interrogation, and until Wade healed, they couldn’t bring his worthless carcass to the Professor’s front door. It was not only rude, but insulting, offensive, and discourteous to the man’s otherwise benevolent gestures. There was one problem though.

Wade wouldn’t fucking shut up, and Logan couldn’t bring himself to stop punching him as a result.

“ _You got to know when to hold them_ ,” Wade sang and swayed from his spot against the tree, made lude hand gestures that explicitly inferred what he was saying.

Logan growled, clenching his hands and preparing to punch him again. Frank stopped him before he could. “Just one more punch.”

“It’s not doing any good except making him laugh more.” Frank grunted, shoving Logan away from the madman. “We can’t keep doing this. Insulting or not, we need to bring him to your Professor. Maybe he can figure out what made him go batshit.”

“I doubt it,” Logan popped his knuckles, “anything makes Deadpool go nuts. Everything from clowns and midgets to unicorns and playdough.”

“ _Did I sense a Supernatural reference in there?_ ” Deadpool commented as Frank continued. “We can always kill him?”

“And whatever useful knowledge with him?” Logan shook his head, “not worth it . . . yet.”

Frank sighed, rubbing his head in frustration. “Fine. Grab his weapons, I’ll start securing him.”

“ _Ooh! A bondage party?! What role shall I play? The dutiful sub whose sole purpose is to please his Dom’s. Or can I be the oppressive Dom who gives you two overworked boys the spanking of your lives?_ ” Wade smiled up at Frank until the very agitated Alpha shoved a sock into the restrained Alphas mouth before quickly covering it with tape.

From there, Frank worked on further restraining Wade’s flailing limbs while Logan gathered up any supplies in the secluded area. Days they camped out here, refusing to go back to the house. Days they isolated to interrogate the worthless asshole who wouldn’t tell them shit. A complete waste of time on more than one front.

Frank and Logan couldn’t decide the best way to tackle the subject of Violet’s connection to Cyclops. They also couldn’t decide whether to force Scott into remembering his daughter, or just leave it alone. They also couldn’t decide whether what was best for Violet in the long run. Frank was against the X-Men from going in and saving Violet because he trusted Barnes and Romanoff with her safety. Adamant in his decision, Frank refused to change or help unless he got a call from Violet stating otherwise.

No matter how much Violet might be pissed at him, she knew to call him when things got that bad.

Logan didn’t get a say because he hasn’t even seen the kid since before Scott had his terrible accident 10 years ago. He would leave that up to Charles and Erik to convince Frank otherwise. This whole Omega 13 situation was an even bigger shit show, but it was important to figure out all the facts. If the Avengers didn’t know anything about that then it could give the X-Men a leg up on them in the future.

Right now, they needed to handle this asshole before both Frank and Logan decided to get rid of him. Permanently. So, with a mighty heave, Frank slung the bound Deadpool over his shoulder and started off towards the school with Logan at his side.

When they got to the school, they found Marie waiting for them on the front steps.

“Kid, what are you doing here?” Logan dropped the supplies and quickly headed over to her, “is the Professor in?”

“I was waiting on you,” she responded in a harsh tone. “We’ve been trying to call you for past couple of days.”

“What for? What’s going on?”

“The Professor’s Alpha decided they couldn’t wait any longer, so he convinced the Professor to send out a team to confront the Avengers.”

Frank dropped Deadpool, ignoring the pained grunt as he hit the earth. “What?”

“Cyclops, Dr. Grey, the lawyer, the detective, and a few others have been tasked to take down the Avengers. They left yesterday morning . . . and we haven’t heard back from them.”

_Main Room_

It was an embarrassing situation to say the least, but Tony didn’t regret it. For one, he deserved it for almost hurting his darling Chosen. For another, it ended up being a blessing in disguise. Though he had to press a bag of ice to his groin area and deal with Rhodey failing to hide his obvious amusement at the situation, he also had Peter sitting next to him and agonizing over the state of him. So charming. So pure. Tony didn’t know how he was so lucky to find a wonderful companion in Peter.

The precious Omega even rested a hand on Tony’s forearm, and that meant the world to the Alpha. As per their agreement, Tony refrained touching the boy back. He wanted to though. Boy did he want to.

“I’m fine Peter,” Tony assured him with a pained smile, “accidents happen.”

“Shocks to the groin don’t just happen,” Peter responded fretfully, chocolate doe eyes downcast and shoulders slumped over. “And now Violet’s going to think you did something.”

Shit. He hadn’t thought about that.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to dissuade her,” Tony responded in a sharply heightened tone.

Rhodey cackled, practically screaming his laughter from the other side of the room.

“You’re not helping,” Tony growled playfully.

Peter groaned, moving away and putting his head in his hands. “This is going to end bad.”

“Sweetie,” Tony carefully shifted in his chair, “look at me.”

Peter did, posture slumped and a small pout to his lips.

“Everything is going to be okay. I’m going to be alright; Violet is going to be alright, and you’re going to be alright. It’ll all work out in time, so don’t worry about it.” Tony smiled, assuring and calm, “now go ahead and take a shower. Rest up and relax. I’m going to answer some emails and check in with FRIDAY, and once Violet is sufficiently calmed down, I will wholeheartedly apologize to her for my actions. Okay?”

Peter nodded, standing up abruptly, “okay.” He grimaced at the ice pack, “I’m really sorry.”

“There’s no need to apologize.” Tony so wanted to reach out and grab his hand. “Now go take care of yourself. It’s been quite a morning.”

Peter smiled, “that is has.”

Escorted by a still chortling Rhodey, Peter left the room with a wistful glance back at Tony. The Alpha’s gaze followed his Omega’s every movement as he left the room, hating the moment he disappeared in the dark corridor. With a sigh, Tony pulled out his Stark Pad and got to work.

“Alright FRIDAY, any news?”

“Ms. Potts has the documents for the agreement stated by Mr. Parker notarized. All it needs are your and Mr. Parker’s signatures. Ms. Lewis has arrived at the safe house in London and is reportedly in good health. Mr. Rogers has requested that Darcy be allowed to speak with Violet to help further the story of Darcy’s leaving. He insists Darcy knows what to say and what not to.”

Tony nodded, “understood. Any other news?”

“Frank Castle has not checked in and his phone has been turned off leaving me unable to track him. The Iron Legion apprehended a group of people trying to break into the tower yesterday afternoon. Matt Murdock and Sam Wilson are of the group. They are currently being held in a separate location at one of our undisclosed businesses while the rest are being carefully monitored at the Police Station in our district.”

“Did they succeed in breaking in?”

“No sir, I caught one of the group hacking into one of my latent servers and quickly sent the Iron Legion to handle them. I’ve run diagnostics to ensure they were not able to tamper with my protocols but upon your return I insist you double check. The hacker had experience.”

“Of course. Keep running diagnostics until then and let me know if there are any changes.”

“Will do boss.”

“Who are the rest of the group? Were they Violet and Peter’s friends from the Omega protection agency?”

“No, these people are new. I’ll send you their names and the videos taken during the fight. The people were trained and ready to attack when the Iron Legion arrived.”

Tony hummed. “Interesting. Any of them we’d recognize?”

“No. We’ve never encountered them before. All of them have clean records and work at a school out of Rochester.”

“Upstate?”

“Yes sir.”

Tony clucked his tongue, “what school?”

“Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. It’s ran by a Professor Charles Xavier. I’ve sent you his file. I urge to look at that first before anything else.”

“And why is that FRIDAY?”

“Because it says he is an Omega with two scent glands, just like Violet.”

Tony froze, immediately swiping through the names of the group of perpetrators until he got to the Professor. Taking in all the information about him, particularly his age and whether he had an Alpha. He did. Erik Lehnsherr, around the same middle age as his Omega.

Barnes and Romanoff need to know about this.

“FRIDAY, send the names of the assailants to Happy and Phil, have them take care of the group. Along with Murdock and Wilson. Let me know when Barnes and Romanoff will be free. I’d like to talk to them about this man personally.”

“On it boss,” FRIDAY responded quickly, then cut out as she went about her orders.

Tony focused on the Professor for an undetermined amount of time. Learning as much about the man and his medical past while unknowingly sending away vital information that could change everything.

Meanwhile, back in New York, Scott Summers (Violet’s Dad) sat in solitary confinement plotting to get his team and his mate back home.

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Fpin%2F303359724875642615%2F&psig=AOvVaw0mWW3hotIUvKo8yLJOXdtP&ust=1585685123507000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCJj1hd__wugCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAD)

Scott plotting

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.wattpad.com%2F737303327-tony-stark-and-peter-parker-one-shots-injured&psig=AOvVaw2tEzSzXx6AqMa0jfo2DoNm&ust=1585685225882000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCPDNu4-Aw-gCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAD)

I found this and fell in love with it :D.

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Faminoapps.com%2Fc%2Fyuri-manga-and-anime%2Fpage%2Fblog%2Fchloe-price-coming-for-your-heart-ladys%2Fn5Zj_nZBULuV3PdWYDBDJBaGeVNLEnv83NB&psig=AOvVaw3TomJC4hNH66NHIysbEvdW&ust=1585685554876000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCLC5hpmBw-gCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAQ)

And Violet in a nutshell :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People should really think before they act :D. Next chapter I'm planning on focusing on Violet with Bucky and Natasha. What will happen between the three now that Violet is on the mend and discovering certain aspects about herself she'd rather not know? What do you want to happen ;)? How about Peter and Tony? Do you think he'll be able to keep his word and stick to their agreement? Notice any loopholes in said agreement? How about everything happening in the X-Men camp?
> 
> Thank you guys so much for reading! You're amazing and I appreciate you all! :D Please leave a comment and let me know what you think!


	16. Quid Pro Quo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What ever happened to Billy Russo?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness! I tried so hard to get it out for April Fool's Day but better late than never. This chapter is a little clunky and not what I really expected to write but hopefully you guys still like it. It took a bottle of wine for me to finish this so if you find any grammatical errors, just let me know and I'll go back in and fix them later. As always, you guys are amazing! Thank you so much for reading! Hope you all are staying safe and doing okay! Please enjoy the chapter :D.

Chapter 15

Quid Pro Quo

_Violet_

Violet didn’t get back up once she agreed to let the Alphas patch her up. A few times she tried to peak and see exactly what Bucky was doing to her leg, but Natasha maintained her obstructing view as she disinfected the wound in her palm and began stitching it together. The needles and numbing agents sucked, but Violet held in her panic and attempted to keep calm. She didn’t mind needles, she minded being at other people’s mercy. It sucked that she was in this position but there was nothing she could really do about it.

Her knee was messed up, hand was messed up, emotions were running rampant, body sore and seeking comfort from the worst possible places, and her mind was in a daze following a panic attack of all things. Things were not going Violet’s way and more than likely would not be turning in her favor any time soon. It was a hard fact to swallow, but now was not the time for fighting. Now was the time to sit out and wait. What she was waiting for she wasn’t sure. She hoped it would be an opening to escape or give them a taste of their own medicine.

She hoped for the best.

She didn’t know how long she lay there. Didn’t know how long it took for the Alphas to patch her up. She did know that it was far quicker than she anticipated. Around the time she expected them to be halfway done with the stitches was when Bucky started wrapping her knee with fresh gauze and bandages. Natasha had finished her hand a few minutes before that and spent the time running a finger up and down Violet’s arm. Tracing her vein from the looks of it. Pair that with the soft, dusky look in the burnt sienna, and Violet thought Natasha looked almost protective. Certainly, far less creepy and seductive than normal.

Is that why she was reacting this way? Because they toned down their creepy and abrasive natures and treated her like . . . well not human per say but better than a run of the mill Omega they wanted to fuck and destroy. If that was the case, then that is a relief to Violet. She was getting worried she had been assaulted and almost worse so many times that she had started becoming attracted to that which couldn’t be further from the truth. Some people got off on rape and non-con stuff which is totally fine if it’s held in a consensual environment. That’s not Violet though, and this thankfully proved it.

With that revelation in mind, Violet wanted Natasha to get super creepy again so she can go back to rightfully hating her in peace without all these ‘feelings’ getting in the way. How does Peter deal with this stuff? It gave Violet a headache just thinking about it.

Bucky placed the last bit of tape on the gauze, firmly securing it before tossing the rest back into the kit. Then he gathered up all the trash and moved to throw it in the trash. Natasha gently tightened her grip on Violet’s wrist.

“You can sit up now,” she spoke softly, gingerly pulling Violet to a sitting position.

Violet used her good and uninjured hand to do so, pushing against the cold countertop until she was no longer laying back. The first thing she did was look at the state of her leg and wiggle her toes for good measure. It still hurt like a bitch, but she could move it, that was what mattered. The next thing she did, or rather attempted to do, was slide off the counter and put her weight on her leg. Testing it out to determine how bad it was.

Natasha stopped that really quick.

“No, no, no,” the alpha released her injured hand to grab Violet’s shoulders, moving to step in front of her and in between her legs.

“Oh c’mon,” Violet groaned. “Enough already.”

“Not until we get you back to the room.”

“Who said anything about a room?”

“Violet,” she responded in a firm tone, staring deep into Violet’s eyes, “you’re covered in blood, you haven’t had a shower in days, and I know you’ve barely eaten or slept all week. You’re going to wash up, get some food in you, and you’re going to rest.”

Violet’s eyes popped wide, instinctually pulling away from the Alpha in haste. “I’m not taking another bath with you.”

Natasha held on, “you’re right. You’re going to take a shower after we wrap up your bandages, so they don’t get wet. Okay?”

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

Natasha sighed, shaking her head slightly, “and why can’t you let someone help you?”

Violet raised her injured hand, glaring at the Alpha. “Let me go.”

“No,” Natasha repeated, glancing to the left of her, “at least not without handing you over to someone else.”

“You both suck,” Violet growled, and before she could take a breath, Bucky appeared.

He moved in just as Natasha backed away. Violet had little time to react when suddenly Bucky’s hands were on her and she was carefully lifted from the kitchen island. Her hands went to his shoulders as he deftly adjusted her in his embrace, then swiftly carried her bridal style out of the room.

She hated how the moment she was in his arms her body just relaxed. Not enough to stop the raging thoughts and the slight shake that returned to her hands, but enough for Violet to tell the difference. She held onto her revelation of their lack of creepiness being the perpetrator behind her sudden lax behavior towards the Alphas while fiercely ignoring the other reactions she was having towards them.

 _They kidnapped me and tortured my brother. They kidnapped Peter and tortured my brother. They kidnapped us and tortured my brother!_ Violet was mentally screaming, willing her heart and her body to listen to her. They were terrible people who have done terrible things, Violet should be utterly repulsed and disgusted by their presence, not sighing in relief as one carried her while the other walked with them and rubbed the back of her neck.

Maybe she has a concussion? Maybe someone drugged her, and this was all some horrible, lucid dream she couldn’t escape from? Perhaps a coma? An alternate universe she fell into while she was sleeping. Brain tumor? Anything?! Bueller?

Fuck.

Bucky took a different path than the one Violet had grown accustomed too over the last few days. She only noticed because the corridor she was used was essentially a straight shot to the main room. The way Bucky went had a plethora of turns that made Violet dizzy with the speed he took. That wasn’t good. How much blood did she lose exactly?

Before long they were back in a familiar part of the castle, and even sooner they were back in the bedroom where Violet shocked the shit out of Yasha’s arm after attacking Wanda. She hoped she was okay, surprised that she found herself trusting Steve’s brief explanation of her recovery. That didn’t seem so out of the blue since they were able to go through an entire conversation without Violet feeling creeped out, alarmed, and repulsed. Well she did but that was more for the subject matter Steve was informing her about then his general demeanor.

Honestly, she felt at ease with the guy. None of these weird fuzzy feelings she was currently at war with concerning the two Alphas she was apparently stuck with. If she had met Steve under different circumstances, and not as the Captain, dare she say she might have been reasonably nice to him if they were to have a conversation. Perhaps even befriend him despite his second gender and her history with them.

She didn’t know whether to be scared by that knowledge or not.

Bucky didn’t set her down until they were in the bathroom. It matched the interior of the rest of the castle, but it was filled with modern technology that clearly showed the room was updated. He placed her on the edge of the tub, resting his human hand on her shoulder while the metal one leaned over to turn on the shower head and start the water. Natasha suddenly appeared with . . . something. She didn’t know what it was, but she had a feeling she wasn’t going to like it.

“Don’t worry, this won’t hurt you or leave you incapacitated,” Natasha assured, showing Violet the strange devices. “These were created to help protect stitches while in the shower or the bath.”

“By Tony?” Violet growled, brow furrowing in latent rage.

“Tony helped, but it was all Bruce’s idea. He saw it as a necessity since many in our employ tend to get injured on the job.” Natasha pressed a button on the small, circular device that was no bigger than a dime. Then she placed it right on top of Violet’s bandaged knee. There was a blue light, a strange motor-like sound, and then her knee was encased in a protective barrier of warm light.

Violet’s eyes popped wide, “what the fuck?”

Natasha laughed as she handed her the second device, “don’t ask what it’s made of or how they made it possible. All I know is that works, and I can bathe with it without irritating my wounds. Just as you’re about to do.”

Bucky and Natasha stood in unison, clasping hands and staring down at Violet with protective gleams in their red eyes. “We’ll be in the other room if you need us. In case you don’t we’ll still check back in a few minutes to see how you’re doing.” Natasha spoke with an assuring smile before nodding towards the door. “Leave your clothes at the door and I’ll switch them out for you.”

And with that the pair turned and left the room with longing, wistful glances towards Violet, who was left absolutely reeling as the door shut behind them.

_James and Natasha_

“What are we going to do?” James asked after walking a few steps from the door. “How are we going to handle this?”

Natasha sighed, squeezing his human hand before releasing it and moving towards the luggage. “I’m not sure.”

The revelation of their Chosen’s hidden conflict was more than either Alpha was prepared for. They knew she’s had it rough. They came to realize how much pain and suffering she had endured because of their actions. Even more so with the newfound information concerning HYDRA’s mark. This though, the sheer panic in those starry eyes that resided and festered in her golden heart, they didn’t see coming.

Just how deep did her suffering go? How much pain, how many secrets did their darling keep hidden from those that cared for her? Where do they even begin to help her?

“I don’t think we should approach it all at once,” Natasha started, rummaging through the luggage cases for clothes to sleep in. “We need to ease her into it, distract her with other topics before delving deep.”

James grunted in agreement, “starting with Billy?”

Natasha nodded, unbuttoning her jeans and kicking them off. “Yes, and perhaps Wanda’s current status, possibly Darcy’s too.”

“Do you think she’ll buy Tony’s story?” James moved to pick up jeans and help her with her shirt.

“The one where Darcy was shipped off to a safehouse to live out the rest of her days?” She handed James her shirt before quickly unhooking her bra. “No, she’s too smart. Too suspicious to believe a clean-cut story like that.”

“What do you suggest?” James took her bra and began folding the discarded clothes. “If we tell her the truth, she’ll inevitably tell Peter, thus undermining Tony and Steve’s wishes. If we lie then we’ll lose any trust we’ve been able to gain with her, and that’s not much.”

“I know,” she reached out and grabbed her silk, teal colored nightgown, slipping it and adjusting it. “I think we should play it by ear.”

James held up her silk white robe, helping her slip it on, “how so?”

“Base it off how the conversation goes. She might be more interested in Billy and other topics than Darcy? Or Darcy could be her primary concern along with other current events. We’ll base it off where her focus is.” Natasha wrapped the robe and synched it at the waist.

“Past or present?” James inquired as she turned to face him, resting her hands on his shoulders.

Natasha nodded, “if she’s more focused on the present, we’ll give her as much of the truth as we can. If it’s the past, then we’ll give her enough to pacify her and focus on the rest.” She paused, leaning in close, “and if it’s somewhere in the middle-”

“We’ll tell her as much as we can,” James concluded, grasping her hips and pulling her close. “It’s strange seeing you in white.”

“I’d prefer the black, but I’m trying to be good.” She smirked, burnt sienna burning with pent up passion, “you should change too.”

“What clothes are you going to give her?” James asked, breathing in his lover’s scent.

Natasha pulled on his black Henley shirt, winking mischievously. “Like I said, you should go change.”

The corners of his lips quirked, “you’re pushing it.”

“If I were pushing it, I’d give her my soaking panties,” she lifted her leg, her knee rubbing the inside of his thigh. “Instead, I’m giving her a clean pair.”

“Which has your scent all over it,” James responded softly, a deep rumble sounding in his chest.

“I like knowing she’s wearing my clothes. Is that so wrong?”

“To the world? Just a bit.”

“How about to you?” Natasha smiled, her hand running down his chest. “Do you feel the same as the world?”

“You know I don’t,” he grabbed her hand just as it touched his belt, “just as you know better.”

Natasha bit her lip, sighing in frustration, “it’s been days.”

“I’m well aware,” James spoke in a deep, gravelly tone, “but that was part of our punishment, Natasha. We both messed up and we needed to pay the price.”

“I know,” she squeezed his hand, leaning away slightly, “and I thought I could get through the day until Violet was resting and sleeping like a Queen, but watching her confront Tony and then finally letting us help her, relaxing just the tiniest bit in your arms-” she exhaled sharply, attempting to get ahold of herself, “I just want to make her feel good, I want to make you both feel good.”

Natasha abruptly leaned back in, but James stopped her with a firm squeeze to her hip.

“You think I didn’t notice that? You think I didn’t find just as much pleasure as you? Of course, I did. How could I not? After the fighting, the struggling, the horror of the Soldier showing his face, all to find that wonderful woman finding the slightest bit of comfort in my embrace. I didn’t think we’d get to this point even after what you told me. Yet here we are. The tiniest bit of trust is there, trust that we’ve earned, but if we can’t keep a hold of ourselves it will disappear just as fast.”

“I know,” Natasha breathed in slowly, closing her eyes and focusing her mind, “I’m trying to be good.”

“You are being good,” James smirked, “and it makes you look stunning.”

Natasha chuckled, both hands moving to cup his face, “what happened to the murderous man I met?”

“He was rescued by a cold-hearted assassin,” his hands grasped hers, gentle and soft.

Her smirk melted away, leaving behind a dreamy expression, “and what happened to the pair of them?”

“They tried to claim an Omega who was hurting just as badly as them-”

“and in the process, she unknowingly began saving them.” Natasha finished James sentence, “do you think she’ll succeed? Or will our darkness take her too?”

James lost his smirk, expression turning dark at the possibility, “I hope it’s the former, but even if it’s the latter I won’t let her go. Not ever.”

“And neither will I.” Natasha promised.

And then they just stood there. Staring deep into the other’s eyes. Burnt Sienna meeting warm Crimson. Hands just barely touching. Natasha wanted to kiss him deeply, fiercely. Wanted to grab his cock and make him moan in any way she could. She wanted to do the same with Violet but knew that wouldn’t be a good idea. This was going to be a big problem for her. The only way Natasha could deal with her emotions is by doing her job until exhaustion or fucking them away until she could barely move. That’s how she worked. That’s how it’s been for years, especially since James took permanent residence in her heart.

Violet didn’t work that way though, so Natasha needed to figure out something else until Violet wasn’t so opposed to Natasha’s way.

James just wanted to hold them. Hold Violet in his arms and feel her ease in his embrace. Massage her back until she felt safe enough to fall asleep. Run his hands down Natasha’s thighs and kiss her in her most sensitive spot between her legs. Grab her hips to keep her still and then listen to her moans as he tasted her juices and drank them down. He too wanted to make them feel good.

He hoped the inevitable would someday come true.

_Violet_

As time went on, Violet’s knee started to hurt worse. Granted, she wasn’t keeping her weight off it like she should be, but she didn’t think it was a good idea to stand in a slippery shower on one foot and risk another injury on top of the two she already has. If that happened Natasha wouldn’t let her shower by herself ever again, and that was a terrifying thought. One bath session with her was more than enough for Violet.

Even so, she didn’t stay in the shower long. She washed off the blood from her wounds along with the grime she’d been collecting over the past few days. She took out the braids and shampooed her hair, relaxing at the gentle brush of her fingers against her scalp. It felt so good for her hair to be free. To be clean again felt nice too but she’s been far dirtier before. Hazards of being homeless includes not being able to shower whenever you please. Still, it felt nice.

Now she was sitting on the edge of the tub wrapped in a towel and drying her hair with a clean white rag from the sink. She grabbed the devices, pressing the top button just as Natasha did. They turned off instantly, and Violet was surprised to find the bandages in the same, clean state. Not even a hint of condensation, wetness, or sweat. Just as fresh as they were when Bucky wrapped them. She had just placed them on the ring of the tub when a knock sounded at the door.

Violet didn’t answer, pulling tighter at the towel to make it more secure.

The door opened after a beat, and Natasha stepped in with a hand covering her eyes. “Are you decent?”

“For the most part,” Violet stammered, “you going to make me change in front of you again?”

The alpha smirked, shaking her head as she stepped further into the room. “No, I will not.”

Violet glared at the new outfit Natasha was wearing. It looked nice and comfy for someone who apparently was a fan of silk but held a terrible meaning for Violet considering Natasha mentioned ‘resting’ before they took her back to the bedroom. It shouldn’t be a surprise compared to all the other shit that’s been pulled. Violet decided to not focus on it and be thankful that she wasn’t forced to bathe with the Alpha again. And the fact that she hasn’t tried tying her up again. That was a positive.

Natasha removed her hand from her hands, the smirk intensifying the slightest bit as she walked towards Violet, stopping just a few steps away from her. “Here you go.” She leaned forward slightly and handed Violet a small bundle of clothes. “Do you need help putting those on, or can you manage without ripping your stitches?”

“I can manage,” Violet stated, taking the bundle and nodding towards the door, “you can go now.”

The burnt sienna smoldered in those eyes, “don’t take too long,” she added before turning and gliding out of the room, mercifully shutting the door behind her.

Just before she did, Violet caught a glimpse of Bucky pulling on a plain white shirt. His movie star abs on full display before the fabric graciously covered them. A zing shot between her legs. She closed them automatically, looking away in shame.

Okay, she’s officially lost her mind. Or was it her body? Sanity? What it is, she’s lost it and she needs to find it quick.

Shaking her head jerkily, Violet began unwrapping the bundle and concentrating on Natasha’s newest selection. She pursed her lips, nodding in approval. Granted it was definitely one of Bucky’s shirts, but the guy was huge, and she likes big, baggy clothes that hang off her thin frame. Maybe Natasha was finally getting it? Then there was a pair of white panties with burgundy leggings. She hated leggings with a passion. What’s the point of pants without pockets? Also, every time she wore them she felt constricted and confined, but if she didn’t wear them then the Alphas would more than likely take that as permission to ogle or feel up her legs.

Violet glanced at her bandaged knee. Pondering the decision, she glared at the leggings. Ogling or constriction? With a roll of her eyes, she tossed the leggings aside and quickly slipped on the panties before she could change her mind. She briefly caught a whiff of Natasha’s scent, but it was faint so she might have been imagining it. Once they were on, she gingerly stood to her feet, leaning on the wall for support and taking most of her weight on her left leg. Steadying herself, she unwrapped the towel and tossed it to the sink next to the leggings and slipped on the shirt.

She smiled at the length. Just like the others, this one fell to the middle of her thighs and the arms went passed her hands. Though flimsy and easily movable, Violet felt safe and secure. Bucky’s scent was wafted from the black fabric, fresh and strong. She was embarrassed with herself when she leaned down to take in an extra whiff.

He smelled good. So did Natasha. This was bad.

Don’t focus on it, just keep moving. A conversation was about to be had and Violet needed to keep her wits and steer it in the direction she wanted. She couldn’t be swayed or else they’d take it places that served them and left her in the dark. She needed to find out about Billy and anything that might help her and Peter.

God, she hoped he was okay.

With a deep breath Violet grabbed the leggings and limped her way to the door. She pressed her ear against it, listening for any sex noises so she didn’t accidently walk in on them doing it again. One time was enough for her. Silence. Thank God. She breathed in and turned the knob.

Bucky stood tall near the exit door. Still in his boots and dark jeans with only the white shirt as the newest addition. Arms crossed, a dark expression that brightened as soon as Violet peaked her head in the room. His body turned to face her, still as can be. Natasha was sitting on the bed, legs elegantly crossed and back stick straight. The seductive smirk was back, eyes smoldering impossibly more. She stood from the bed and walked straight towards Violet like a leopard watching its prey.

“That was quick,” she remarked, reaching out to her. “Come along, let’s get you on the bed.”

Instead of grabbing her hand, Violet handed her the leggings. “Sorry, I really don’t like leggings,” she muttered while quickly limping passed her.

Natasha stopped her by placing a hand on her shoulder, turning around and grabbing Violet’s uninjured hand to place it on her own shoulder. “What’s wrong with leggings?”

“I just don’t like them,” she flinched as Natasha leaned in, free hand running across Violet’s back until it landed on her waist. “It’s like I can’t breathe when I’m wearing them.”

Natasha nodded. “Okay, no more leggings.”

Then she started walking, and Violet reluctantly moved with her upon realizing what she was doing. She was helping Violet to the bed, and it made her grind her teeth. Or it would have if her teeth didn’t already hurt like a bitch. Instead she merely grumbled in silence.

Her hands were warm . . . it felt nice.

Violet desperately ignored that thought as Natasha helped her climb onto the bed, pushing her until she sat in the middle. Strange how just earlier this week Violet was both hiding under the bed and then jumping off it to attack Yasha. Now she was huddling under the covers like a good little Omega while her Alphas tucked her in with surprisingly soft expressions. Violet wanted to slap herself, but she was sure both would stop her before she got the chance. She’d have to do it later when they weren’t looking.

God! What has happened to her!

Natasha pulled the pelts up and over Violet’s exposed legs while Bucky moved in to sit at the edge of the bed. Once Violet was roughly situated, Natasha settled in next to her beneath the pelts while leaving room between the two so that they weren’t touching. Mussing with the pillows, the Alpha angled her body to face Violet by laying on her side and propping her arm up to keep her eyes in line with the Omega. Gentle yet salacious all at once.

Violet sighed, glaring at the pelt. Time to get this started before Violet could get lost her thoughts and freak herself out. No worrying about her reactions and their potential meanings. Violet was determined to get answers, and she going to get them now.

“Why did Billy want to join you guys?”

_James and Natasha_

She was so brave.

James could see how uncomfortable she was. The tension rolling off his darling in waves with her clenched jaw and stiff, hunched over posture. Despite that her starry eyes remained fierce, controlled, and full of focus. The damp blue locks framed her face beautifully, and her scent was just as it should be. Beach at sunset, sea salt filling the air amid the smoke burning from a campfire with the finishing touch of chocolate covered almonds and berries, a dash of vanilla topping it off. No grime and stone-like residue coating and masking the beauty of her aroma. It was just her. Her scent intermingling with theirs.

_Just as it should be._

James flinched at the voice, but only a trained professional like Natasha could have caught it. It was rare for the soldier to make his thoughts known to James. Whenever he was in full control, the soldier only appeared to note certain things on missions. Discrepancies, potential short cuts, or secrets passages, things only the weapon he is could notice and not the man James so desperately tried to be.

This is the first time James could recall where the soldier appeared and made a personal comment. It irked James while also calling on the dark, possessive side of himself that wholeheartedly agreed with the thought. A side that wasn’t the soldier’s doing or a side effect from HYDRA’s experimentation. James always had possessive urges, the desire to covet and be coveted by another so thoroughly and intimately. The experimentation and the arrival of the soldier made the urges more potent and harder to ignore, but it didn’t consume him as it did for Natasha.

She too had those urges, and all too often she drowned in them.

It was fine when it was just her and James. He could guide her through the days she felt submissive and wanted to be punished or be at her mercy when she felt dominant and wanted to punish. Sometimes those urges called for rough and dirty five-minute fuck sessions while other times they wouldn’t leave the bedroom for the whole day because that urge necessitated 24-hour nonstop BDSM play. They were a common occurrence, and James is a more than willing participant, but it couldn’t be like that anymore.

Violet was with them now, and they need to take care of her and her needs first.

_We will take care of them. All she needs to do is call my name._

James growled to himself, clenching his hands the slightest bit as Natasha started speaking.

“How about a trade?”

Violet turned her head to glare at Natasha, “seriously?”

His lover had the nerve to pout. “I want to know more about you, and I know there’s a few things you want to know about us. Admit it.”

“I’d like to know about Darcy, Wanda, whether my friends back in New York are safe and alive, and Peter’s Aunt and Uncle. Other than that, there’s not much I’m concerned about that doesn’t affect me or Peter where our virginity and wellbeing are concerned.”

Natasha smiled at that, “I assure you that the wellbeing and . . . virginity of the pair of you are in very good hands.”

Violet looked to James, “please let me go back to the main room.”

“Sorry,” Natasha responded as James shook his head, “that was a rude tease. I won’t do it again. Please? Quid pro quo, and then I’ll tell you about Billy. Deal?”

Violet rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

“Excellent! Will you start?”

“Fine,” Violet grated, “what happened to Darcy? What ‘punishment’ was she forced to endure?”

“We don’t have a name for it, but in short it involves a lot of sex-”

“Whoa! Stop there.” Violet shivered, retching at the thought. “Was it consensual or did you guys gang rape her or some shit?”

“Baby, we made a deal. Remember? If you went along with our plans and allow me to bathe you without fighting back, then both of us would not take part or involve ourselves with Darcy’s punishment. You held up your end, so we held up ours. We only know of this because Steve informed us. And before you ask again, it was consensual. Not exactly pleasant since it was a punishment, but Darcy did consent to it.”

“Where is she now? Is she still serving out her punishment?”

Natasha ran a hand through her hair. “No, she’s been sent away.”

“In pieces?”

“No, to London.”

“In a box, or would a coffin be more accurate?”

“She’s not dead, Violet.”

“But she will be soon?” Violet narrowed her eyes, skeptical as always. “Do you honestly expect me to believe that the Avengers haven’t made arrangements to off her?”

“Why are you so convinced that we will?”

“Because she’s been Steve’s ‘chosen’ for the last 3 years at least. She might have been outside the circle and Steve might not have told her shit, but you guys haven’t gotten to where you are if you weren’t super anal about details and covering your asses. There’s no way she hasn’t heard something that could hurt the team, or at least bring a round of media coverage the Avengers simply can’t afford highlighting their comings and goings. Especially if that information is tied to the cash cow of Stark Industries that’s funding the entire operation. There’s no possible way you assholes wouldn’t have her killed. Delay it maybe, but that’s it.”

Natasha smirked, humming while pondering their darling’s accusation. James sighed, knowing where this was going. He stiffened, ready for the coming implosion.

“It’s a distinct possibility, but it’s not set in stone. Darcy was sent to London just before dawn. The plan currently is to simply discredit her, and paint as the alcoholic foreigner which at the moment she currently is. One of our contacts at the embassy will apprehend and arrest her before throwing her in a mental hospital due to a ‘psychotic and delusional’ episode which FRIDAY will ensure Darcy has a clearly stated and repeated history of. If all goes to plan, then Darcy will live out the rest of her days in an upscale hospital drinking as much wine as she pleases, along with plenty of suitors to keep her company.”

“And if it doesn’t go according to plan?”

Natasha shrugged, “it all depends on what makes it fall apart.”

“How many ways that end in death?”

“You’ll have to ask Steve or Tony. This was their idea, we’re just here to tell you.”

“How convenient,” Violet growled.

Natasha smiled. “My turn.”

“Yippee.”

“Don’t sound so excited, it might just make me quake.”

“Ugh.”

Natasha chuckled, “what’s your favorite color?”

Violet looked at her like she was crazy. “Really?”

“Answer the question,” Natasha winked flirtatiously.

Violet rolled her eyes, “indigo.”

“Curious choice. Why that color?”

“It was color of the sky the last time my Dad and I went camping.” Violet shrugged.

Natasha’s gaze softened, so too did James’ stiff posture. “Did the stars look gold?”

Violet looked slightly taken aback, the harshness in her expression momentarily ebbing. “I don’t know. I went to sleep before they came out. In pictures they do though. At least the ones I’ve seen.”

“Have you never seen the stars before?”

Violet stared; suspicion prevalent before shaking her head.

“Remind me to show them to you sometime,” Natasha promised before continuing. “How about your favorite band?”

“Temper Trap, though I’m kind a fan of everything that isn’t country or mindless dubstep music. Well no I can do dubstep if I’m drinking at a bar or a club, but that’s the only time.”

“Duly noted. Favorite liquor?”

“Rum, definitely rum.”

“Like a pirate?” Natasha giggled.

Violet snorted, “Peter keeps saying all I need is a broken compass and I’d be Captain Jack Sparrow reimagined for the modern age.”

“I’d like to see you drunk.”

“I doubt that,” Violet grunted. “My turn now.”

Natasha sighed, “fine. Status of Wanda and the rest of your friends. Right?”

“You got it, now start talking.”

Natasha breathed in deep, “Wanda has healed wonderfully and has had what could be the most polite and studious nurse she could have asked for in the form of Jarvis. She’s doing well and is more concerned about you and Peter.” She paused, appraising Violet steady expression before continuing. “Your friends, for the most part, are going about their daily lives as if nothing ever happened with only a few exceptions. Jessica Jones is currently awaiting court for assault and battery along with attending anger management sessions and AA. Matt Murdock and Sam Wilson disappeared off the map with last known sightings in the underbelly of Queens though they had no known contact with Peter’s Aunt and Uncle. Both of whom are doing perfectly fine and worry free thanks to some automated recordings of Peter’s voice Tony had FRIDAY compound. Also, you will either be pleased or repulsed to find out, but Pietro is actually on his way here at Wanda’s insistence.”

“Goddammit,” Violet groaned, turning her head away. “Is she trying to get a bunch of Omegas mated? Does she realize you fuckers aren’t going to let him go either?”

“I don’t know, you’ll have to ask her.” Natasha shrugged, “my turn?”

Violet glared at her, “fine.”

“Apart from escaping with Peter and now apparently Pietro, what do you want most in the world?”

Violet sighed, turning her head to look through the tiny sliver of window. “To see the stars, I guess.”

“You guess?” Natasha replied softly.

Violet sighed, “I don’t know. There might be more to it, but I’m not interested in figuring it out today.”

Natasha pursed her lips, “fair enough. Now here’s a hard question.”

“Oh great,” Violet grumbled.

“This one you don’t have to answer,” Natasha didn’t smile, “why are you so against sex?”

Violet stiffened. James did too. Both of them staring at Natasha in disbelief.

“I won’t be someone else’s fuck toy, and all I’ve seen of sex is using someone else to get your own pleasure off. Particularly Alphas using Omegas and even Betas like they were blow up dolls instead of human beings. That’s not me, and I won’t let it happen to me.”

“Sex isn’t supposed to be-” Natasha tried explaining but Violet cut her off.

“I don’t need your bullshit explanation. Do you have any questions or are you going to tell me about my brother?”

Natasha sighed, but relented. “I just have one more.”

“Fine, make it quick.”

Her smirk returned, “who was your first kiss?”

Violet glared at Natasha before pointing directly at James who bristled in shock. No way. Absolutely no way. Natasha was equally surprised.

“Are you serious?”

“Not something I’m likely to joke about, is it?” Violet retorted in an angry tone. “Thanks for ruining that for me too. Now will you finally answer my question? Why did Billy want to you guys?”

It took them time to recover. James felt retched, ashamed. Her first happened whilst they were drugging and fully prepared to kidnap her. What a mess. So much they needed to make right, and they still didn’t realize the full capacity of just how much there was to make right. Natasha naturally recovered first, and James watched as has been. Remaining silent as the grave while the soldier growled and gnashed at the clear memory of her lips. Ruminating of James’ kiss, and his own with their wonderful, feisty darling.

“As I’m sure you remember, Billy was ambitious. Driven. Possessed many qualities most Omegas yearn to have yet settle back in their meek and subservient ways. Billy was strong and looked ahead, which led him to us.” She shifted in the bed, getting more comfortable before continuing. “We reached a stage in our corporation where we needed more players. Too many things were happening at once around the world, important things that needed to be attended too but would have led us to stretch ourselves thin and leave room for mistakes. Mistakes, as I’m sure you know, can never be afforded in our line of work. So, using trusted connections, we started looking into potential prospects and Billy happened to be one of them.”

“Why was he on the list?” Violet interjected, confusion coloring her stiff expression.

“Why do you ask that?”

“He was an Omega,” Violet grated, “most places would have disqualified him for that. Hell, most corporations wouldn’t consider hiring him at all. He even had to lie on his designation just so he could join the army. If it wasn’t for Frank vouching for him and his skills, along with the rest of his platoon, he would have spent the rest of his life in prison for lying on a federal document or some shit.”

Natasha hummed at that, mulling over Violet’s statement. “Is it like that today? Stringent policies based on gender classification?”

“It is for Omegas. It’s why Wanda became a nurse instead of pursuing her dream of becoming Surgeon. Too many bylaws to follow concerning their heats and such that basically outlaws them from being in surgery unless they’re the ones receiving medical attention. For Alphas all they need to do is call in sick like they have a cold should they go into rut. For Omegas they’re Quarantined for a week, undergo a multitude of tests, and forced to endure constant monitoring from the Head Physician in their department until they’re fully assessed. Then they have to wait a week for their results so they can be allowed to return to surgery which only leaves them approximately 2-3 days to perform their regular duties until it’s time for their next heat. It’s even more stringent when the Omega is on suppressants because they must log in whether or not they’ve taken their suppressant along with the type, brand, and dosage of said suppressant.”

Violet took a breath, shaking her head in disgust. “Ergo, it’s all a bunch of bullshit rules to keep Omegas in line while Alphas reign supreme. Even the ER staff isn’t that bad though that’s probably because they need as much staff as they can get with a city like New York. Particularly the paramedics. All they ask is to keep track of your heats and stock up on scent suppressors in case an Alpha in rut comes in and isn’t properly secured. No documentation needed, just take care of yourself. It’s why Pietro was able to become one. He and Wanda both have the skills and the drive to be so much more but because of Alpha favoritism they’re stuck. We all are.”

Natasha tilted her head to the side, “would you want to be surgeon? Without the stringent rules in place, of course.”

Violet crinkled her nose, “fuck no. Work inside of a trapped environment with arrogant cohorts who are more concerned with their ‘perfect record’ instead of the life they helped save? I’m good. I’ll take my dumpster diving over that any day.”

“What would want to be then?” Natasha asked, eyes narrowing in curiosity.

“Why do you want to know?”

Natasha shrugged, “humor me?”

Violet sighed exasperatedly, “I don’t know. Probably a paramedic. At least an EMT.”

Natasha pressed her lips together, nodding slightly. “I can see that. You don’t strike me as a person who could work at a desk. You like being in the thick of things where the action is while also helping people.”

“Is that your nice way of calling me an adrenaline junky?”

“No,” the alpha chuckled softly, “that’s my nice way of noting how restless you are.”

Violet rubbed her eyes in a fast, jerky motion. “What does this have to do with Billy?”

Natasha leaned an inch closer to her, a slight smirk on the corner of her lips. “We weren’t concerned with second genders when recruiting. We were interested in up and comers. Prospects that held the qualities your half brother possessed and rising fast in specific fields. Military, C.I.A., F.B.I., S.H.I.E.L.D, any place that required experience in artillery, intelligence, communications, espionage, and anything else we needed. Billy was the most persistent and made plenty of plays to earn a spot within our group. He became particularly forward with his desires about a year before his . . . unfortunate end.”

“In other words, murdered him because he stole from you and tortured him for the hell of it.” Violet gave Natasha a very fake smile before returning her narrowed gaze to the pelts.

“We’ll get to that,” Natasha dissuaded, slowly reaching out to clasp Violet’s injured hand.

Violet crossed her arms, “sure you will.”

Natasha pulled back. “He never explicitly told us why he wanted to join our cause. Claiming money was his primary goal along with the prospect of changing the world. We knew he was lying, and when he kept lying Tony had Clint and I keep eyes on him and his actions until he decided to steal from us. With his ambitious nature, many surmised that his goal was to supersede us and one day take over the Avengers. A foolish mission to say the least.” She cocked her head slightly, “why do you think he did it?”

“Joined you or stole from you? You got to be more specific.” Violet murmured.

Natasha’s smirked intensified, “both.”

Violet scrunched her nose, shifted in place, and tightened her crossed arms. “What day did he steal from you?”

“Halloween morning,” Natasha answered, “why do you ask?”

Violet hesitated. Jaw clenched tight, pain shooting across her expression as a result. Body shaking more than it already was, making it visible to the eye. Natasha lost her smirk, and James straightened up slightly. Both ready to act.

What was happening. What was their girl thinking? What was she holding back?

“Billy and Frank always pushed me to do more than was necessary. Learn things and do things that most people wouldn’t think was important. Things like learning how to shoot a gun, ride a motorcycle, how to use tools, fix broken things or tinker with them so they work better, how to fly a plane, drive a stick shift, what to eat and not to eat in the woods, which living creatures are poisonous or just ornery, and other miscellaneous jargon most people would never be concerned with.” She paused, sniffling slightly as her eyes got lost in the pelts. “Frank wanted me to be prepared should shit hit the fan, but Billy wanted me to use the things they taught me and attack those who wanted to oppress me. Just like he did.”

She took another breath, this one trembling and quaking. “To answer your question. I think he wanted to join so he could change the world. Change it so people wouldn’t have to do what he did just to get somewhere in life. Or at least so I wouldn’t have to.” She looked up, eyes filled with tears, “and I think he stole from you for the same reason.”

The soldier growled protectively in the back of James’ mind. He silently growled in unison, leaning forward in his spot and resting his human hand on her covered ankle. Natasha sat up and faced their darling with wide eyes, leaning forward slightly inquiring, “What do you mean?”

Violet laughed, harsh and cruel, a pained smile on her beautiful face. “I presented as an Omega a few days before Halloween. Just finished up my first heat that very morning. Once it was done, he pulled me into his arms and promised me that I would never have to live the life he did. He was going to make sure I never had to feel what other Omegas went through.” She shook head, still smiling that pained smile, “then he grabbed his stuff and walked out of the room.” She laughed again, the first tear fell, “of course it’s my fault.”

James froze, stunned to realize what she was referring. Natasha grabbed their chosen’s shoulders and looked her in dead in eyes. Violet didn’t look back, opting to stare at the pelts like they were her lifeline.

“It is not your fault,” Natasha spoke in a commanding tone. “Look at me.”

Violet did. Another tear fell. “He was looking out for me, and you murdered him for it. You tortured him for it.” She laughed once more, just as harsh as the first time. “Tell me Natasha, do you feel like smirking now?”

No. Neither of them did.

James couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t want to stop himself. One moment he was at the edge of the bed, gently holding her ankle. The next he was on his feet and circling to the other side of the bed and dropping next to his Omega. Though she struggled, both Alphas took her in their embrace and held her tight. Felt the tears land on their skin, took in the tainted smell of her beautiful fragrance, and heard the laughter that choked and clawed its way out of her.

“It’s so fucked up,” Violet choked, “I’m literally stuck between two of the people who took the most pleasure in his pain and they’re holding me like I’m some fucking doll. God, I don’t know who he’d be more ashamed of right now. Frank for just handing me over to you like I’m nothing or me for going along with it. Making deals and promises that always end in your favor.”

Natasha leaned back, grabbing Violet’s face as she did. Eyes wild, burning with need while her lip trembled the slightest. Shaken to the core.

“Listen to me,” she started, quickly clearing her throat, “the pleasure we took was not purely out of sadistic needs. There was a reason behind it.”

“What reason could you possibly have for mutilating and torturing a man?”

“Because Betty told us too,” Natasha pleaded, shaking Violet slightly. “Betty was pregnant when Billy came in and stole valuable information from our servers. In his escape he pushed her down the stairs and caused her to have a miscarriage.” She paused, taking a breath, staring deep into Violet’s wide, disbelieving eyes. “She lost her child because of him, and Bruce left it up to her on what his punishment would be. What we did is exactly what she commanded.”

Violet shook her head, “you’re lying.”

“I’m not,” she exhaled sharply, burnt sienna blazing intensely, “and I can prove it.”

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Ftenor.com%2Fview%2Fhide-the-rum-pirates-of-the-caribbean-arr-johnny-depp-jack-sparrow-gif-12107964&psig=AOvVaw0sRpHkPiPGnl7Tp8xmOW8e&ust=1585980365166000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCJjhxLbLy-gCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAV)

Violet is definitely going to say this within a few chapters. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man! That was a roller coaster! Question after question. Accusation after accusation. What next?! I'm not entirely sure because there are a few different avenues I can take from this point that will (in theory) lead to the next turning point in the story I want to get too. What would you like to see happen in the meantime? I'm always open to ideas and suggestions should you have any. If so, you know how to tell me ;). 
> 
> For those that are interested in the vampire/witches AU starring the Avengers, Violet, and Peter. I am still strongly considering it and have even started writing it just to feel it out, but I probably won't post anything for it until this story reaches a good point. If I do finish a chapter then I will post it. Right now it's just a prophecy dictating certain events that will guide the characters to their doom/salvation. Nothing terribly interesting XD. 
> 
> Again, if you guys do have any ideas or certain things or people you would like to see included in the story, and it can be anything, then please leave a comment to let me know and I will definitely consider it. Some ideas and suggestions make it in while others do not. If it's latter then I'll do my best to explain to you why I wasn't able to include it. 
> 
> Thank you all so much! I appreciate you more than you know! Please take care and stay safe! :D


	17. Imagine Me and You - Excerpt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Summary Released at a Later Date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For starters, I must apologize to you all. This is not a full chapter. This a teaser of what is to come in the next chapter. As some of you might have noticed this is a late update, like a week late, and I normally don't do that (I hope). I'm fine, it's just with the Pandemic and Quarantining and a whole bunch of other things on top of it, I am forced to work from home which leaves a lot more stuff on my plate. I don't have as much time to write as I would like. On a brighter note, I'm also doing something else with another author on this website for a really cool story while this is all happening and I feel like my brain's going to explode with everything that I'm doing. I feel terrible that I only have an excerpt for you, but I couldn't just leave you guys hanging without something. Again, I sincerely apologize, and I hope you all are doing great during these troubling times. Thank you for sticking with me!

“Oh, he’s so handsome,” the soft motherly voice of Betty Banner crooned, jostling her smiling baby in her arms the slightest bit as she walked through the dark halls of Loki’s castle. Bruce was right next to her with one hand at the small of her back and the other holding his worn brown leather suitcase. He smiled at her comment, looking down at their baby boy with complete and utter adoration.

He never thought he’d see the day where a child of his would be born into the world. So many miscarriages, so any false alarms, so many signs telling him to give up. She never did though. She saw and believed in this future before it became his dream and continued to believe long after he had given it up. He’s so happy she didn’t give up. Forever grateful she pushed him to keep going.

His perfect chosen.

“He takes after you,” he responded softly, awed and enamored by their child.

“Parker Mason Banner,” Betty cooed. The little boy giggled in her arms. “Yes, that’s you. That’s you.”

“Good names. I’m glad you chose them.”

“Of course,” Betty turned her head to gaze at her Alpha. Eyes filled with nothing but warmth and love. “If it wasn’t for them, Wanda would not have been able to bring our child into the world. They made our impossible dream a reality.”

“And for that, we owe them our lives. Forever indebted for their bravery and courage.” Bruce agreed, running his hand up and down her back.

“Our boy will have a lot to live up too.” Betty noted, leaning down and rubbing noses with her son. “What with having a renowned scientist for a father.”

“A genius for a mother,” Bruce complimented, holding back his self-deprecatory comment.

“And named after two promising Omegas who far exceed many that share their second gender.”

Bruce beamed, “luckily for him, he’ll have plenty of people to help him along the way.”

“Starting with us,” Betty laughed, kissing her baby’s forehead softly.

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.quora.com%2FAt-the-end-of-Avengers-Infinity-War-why-did-Spider-Man-apologize-to-Tony-Stark-before-disintegrating&psig=AOvVaw3rNJnXLqd-cGOwfYRWvjvq&ust=1586658410555000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCJC2l6-p3-gCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAD)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Fpin%2F834221530948303986%2F&psig=AOvVaw3HB_hfN3bQcmYmJZNsKl7L&ust=1586658580450000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCLCn0YKq3-gCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAD)

(Violet's attitude in this chapter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, just a small taste of what is to come. I'm currently working on it amid all the other stuff that I'm doing so it's probably going to take a while. I plan on touching base with Frank, Logan, and Xavier to see what's happening with them. I also plan on an epic verbal confrontation between a few characters. Care to guess who will be involved ;). I hope everyone is staying safe! I hope you like what I was able to give you. Please stay safe!


	18. There's Just Something About Violet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone talks about Violet, but who goes out of their way to defend her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all SSSSSOOOOOOO much for being patient with me! To all of you who left me well wishes, thank you so much! I appreciate you all and I hope you're doing great and staying safe during these troubling times! This chapter is almost 8000 words long and checks in with a few different places. It's not my best work and probably a little confusing, but I'm happy I got it to a place where I can post it. Again, thank you all so much and I hope you enjoy!!! :D

Chapter 17

There’s Just Something About Violet

_Main Room_

Betty and Bruce had just arrived a few minutes ago. They failed to inform FRIDAY or any of the Avengers of their impending arrival, hence the lack of a welcoming reception for the new parents. It was accidental, not a choice made by either, the notion simply slipping their mind with the new baby and the lack of sleep that comes with having one. Still, they were both excited and anxious to rejoin their teammates after their brief vacation in Paris. Betty in particular was eager to resume her work after missing several weeks of valuable time due to her little Parker’s early arrival. Valuable time she intended to catch up on while Bruce looked after their child and caught up with the rest of the team.

It took a fair amount of time before the pair finally ran into someone. Roaming the halls with a wary look but polite smile, the Banners crossed paths with their favorite student, young Peter Parker. Hair damp, body hunched in and arms crossed over his chest, the talented boy charged through the halls nearly bumping into the new parents in his haste. Those chocolate doe eyes met theirs with wide eyed fear, but once recognition settled in the boy breathed a sigh of relief and placed a hand over his heart.

“Dr. Banner,” he smiled, nodding to Bruce before turning and gesturing to Betty, “and Dr. Banner. I did not expect to see you two today. How’s everything going? Is being a parent all that it’s cracked up to be?”

“Hello Mr. Parker,” Betty laughed, “and yes it most certainly is. I do miss having a normal sleep schedule, but we make do. I’m more excited about having the chance to get some work done. I’m so far behind with my projects it’s a wonder how everything is still standing. How about you, Peter? How are you and Violet adjusting? I do hope The Guardians have kept their distance. They’re not the most savory of people. Especially that Rocket character,” Betty shivered delicately, recalling the memory of that angry man with perfect clarity.

Peter cleared his throat, tightening his hold around his chest. “Well, you’ll have to clarify what you mean on “adjusting” because a lot has happened in the past week. As for the Guardians I think they’re amazing. Rocket’s ridiculously smart and helped work out some of the kinks when it comes to Karen, the A.I. I’ve been trying to create for a while. What used to be a two year project has the possibility of being finished within a couple months if I get the chance to work on it anytime soon. I think he might be able to help you out with some of your projects, both of yours actually, if you don’t mind sharing ideas with an intelligent mind that comes from a _less savory_ background.” Peter smiled, nodding towards the end of the corridor. “Now, if you please excuse me, I need to check on my friend.”

“I’m sorry,” Bruce cut in, glancing at his wife before looking apologetic to Peter, “what do you mean we’d have to clarify? What’s happened here?”

“A lot,” Peter shrugged, “I’m sure Tony or someone else will be able to fill you in. I would, but I really want to check on Violet. We had kind of a rough awakening this morning and I just want to make sure she’s okay.” Peter gently yet eagerly pushed passed the two scientists. “Your son looks just like you, by the way!” He called over his shoulder before whisking off down the hallway.

Betty and Bruce shared a look before briskly following behind the student. This wasn’t like Peter. Something was wrong.

In the main room Betty and Bruce were delighted and confused to see Tony on the couch. Delighted because he was there friend, confidant, and a trusted ally. Of course, they’d be delighted to see him. Confused because there was a bag of ice sitting on his groin area, and there was a shocked gleam to his expression. He was staring at a Stark pad, brown eyes bulging as they flitted across the screen. Steve and Rhodey also happened to be in the room. Both of them were at the bar, but Rhodey was the only one drinking. Steve sat on the bar stool facing the entirety of the room, observing for any disturbances. He nodded at the new parents upon their arrival while Rhodey raised his glass, mumbling “congrats” before turning back to his drink. Betty frowned at that.

Peter waved to Tony but otherwise made no effort to address the man. Betty’s jaw dropped. It’s been over a week. Peter should be absolutely fawning over his Alpha and desperate to be at his side. Not nonchalant and dismissive. What is so going on? Steve moved from his perch to stop Peter before he could enter another corridor at the edge of the room.

“Sorry kid, Nat and Buck are going to make sure Violet gets some sleep. You can check on her later. Okay?”

Peter sighed, forehead scrunching in distress as he attempted to push passed the Captain, “I need to see her. I have to know she’s okay.”

“Mr. Parker,” Betty chastised, adjusting her hold on the child in her arms, “how dare you speak back to him in a such a manner? If Violet is doing her due diligence in attending to her Alphas, then you need to be doing the same.” She pointed to Tony, who looked thoroughly bewildered at the two scientists. “Now go to _your_ Alpha and attend to his needs immediately.”

Peter cocked an eyebrow, staring at her in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“I believe I made my statement perfectly clear,” Betty warned, piercing her former student with her firm gaze. “go to your Alpha and attend to his needs just like Violet is doing with hers.” Betty shook her head in surprise, attempting to press her comment when there was a sudden trill of laughter.

Betty turned her attention to Rhodey who was positively shaking with suppressed amusement. Slapping the countertop in his frenzied state, he abruptly turned to face the scientists, tears leaking from her eyes. “I’m sorry. I need you to repeat that one more time. Violet is attending to who?”

Betty glared at his shaking form. “Her Alphas of course-” Betty replied just as she was rudely interrupted by Rhodey. He let out a peal of laughter, leaning back and letting his head fall. A massive grin overtaking his face.

“Oh My God. That must be the funniest shit I’ve ever heard. Violet attending to her Alphas.” He fell against the countertop, hands holding his gut as he practically shouted his amusement. “What a joke!”

“It doesn’t sound funny to me,” Betty retorted, switching her gaze to Steve. “What is going on here?”

He grimaced, placing a firm hand on Peter’s shoulder whilst guiding him towards the couches. “Their Alphas haven’t had time to bond and court them.”

“It’s been over a week.” Bruce noted, tone meek and unsure as he glanced at his wife. “What could have happened to prevent that?”

Rhodey let out another peal of laughter. Steve scratched his head looking thoroughly embarrassed. Tony lifted the Stark Pad and hid his face behind it. Peter merely glared at his former teacher, re-crossing his arms and standing firm in a blatantly defiant gesture. Betty stared back at her former student in equal fervor. Bruce stepped up, raising his hands in a nonthreatening manner, clearly aiming to keep the impending conversation as calm as possible, but was brutally interrupted by an angry Peter Parker.

“I’m going to explain this to you in a way that I would imagine Violet would explain it to you, only with less cursing and angry insults.” Peter started, staring Betty down with all his might. “Tony went into a rut and would have raped me if Violet hadn’t come in and saved me. The Winter Soldier came out later on in the day and forced Violet and I to run for our lives, and nearly killed Wanda, Steve, Thor, and Natasha in the process. This morning, Tony emerged from his rut and was almost, and would have been, killed by Violet if she weren’t the decent, good, and wonderful person I know her to be. On top of that we were kidnapped and drugged by these people, taken away from our homes, our family, our friends, and tucked away into another country where we are once again being held against our will. Now, with all that mind, do you understand why there hasn’t been a time for them to bond and court us, if that’s what we can even call it?”

Betty and Bruce stared at the group. Tony looked positively sheepish behind the Stark Pad. Steve sighed and shrugged his shoulders. Rhodey let out yet another peal of laughter. They glanced at one another before turning their attention back to Peter.

Bruce stepped forward, expression lost and confused. “What now?”

Steve stepped forward, taking residence behind Peter in a not so subtle sign of “backing” the young Omega. “Why don’t you two take a seat, and we’ll start from the beginning.”

_Rochester_

Frank was at a loss for words. Logan was pissed beyond belief. Wade was silent as the grave, Bosco and Mr. Whiskers included. The three men were not sure what to expect when they entered the school intending to converse with the Professor and potentially trade blows with his Alpha, but what had occurred was most certainly not on their list of expectations.

The conversation started as they intended, confronting the couple about their recent decisions that led to the entire A-Team and company getting caught, arrested, and now facing execution courtesy of the Avengers. The Professor was uncharacteristically silent throughout the interrogation, staring out the window with a sad yet determined look about him while Erik proudly defended his decision for sending the team in. Frank was thoroughly displeased, and Logan was right there with him. Deadpool was too busy rocking back and forth on the ground like a rocking horse to make note of the idiocrasy that was Erik’s plan. Or lack thereof.

“What reason could you have for sending in the best you have to offer into a blind and doomed operation?” Frank growled, staring the opposing Alpha down.

Erik stared back defiantly and without fear, one hand firmly placed on Professor’s shoulder. “It was a necessary action.”

“Necessary? Necessary to shoot your load before the target’s even placed?” Frank shot back. “Cut the bullshit and tell me what’s really going on. Why did you send your team in blind?”

“They’re probably dead right now, and if not then they will be soon.” Logan added, eyes solely on the Professor. Charles flinched at that, the sadness growing the slightest bit in that expression. Logan sighed, moving to kneel before the Professor, catching his attention with a snap of his fingers. “C’mon Charles, what happened? Why did you do this?”

Jaw flinching, sharp inhale of breath, “it needed to be done.”

“Why? Why did it need to be done?” Logan paused, mulling over Charles statement. “What is this really about? Are you willing to risk everything for Violet, or was this supposed to be a shot at the Avengers? A rescue mission like you told us or a declaration of war that _he_ wants?”

“I assure you Logan,” Charles spoke up, voice soft and meek, “my intentions are on saving Violet and Peter from The Avengers tainted and bloody grasps.”

“But what you’re doing is calling attention to your school, your livelihood.” Logan countered, exasperatedly scratching his beard. “By doing this you’ve put yourself, your students, your team, and numerous innocent people under _your_ care on _their_ radar. It won’t take long for them to realize they’re all linked to the school. They’ll send people here to investigate. Go undercover, disguise themselves, sneak onto the property, and anything else to find out why they tried invading the tower and how exactly you’re connected with them.”

“I’m well aware of the possibilities, Logan. I don’t need you to remind me.”

“If you’re aware then why risk it? Why risk everything you’ve built over two kids you don’t even know?”

“Violet is not a normal Omega,” Charles responded, tone strengthening with a surprising amount of frustration. He turned in his chair slightly to address Logan fully. “I’m not merely referring to her evolved status with two scent glands. There’s more at play here.”

“What’s at play?” Frank cut in, shifting his stance to face the Professor, “what are you talking about?”

“Violet is not just a regular Omega, or even an evolved one, she’s . . .” Charles paused, taking a breath before continuing, “she’s one of us.”

A cold shiver ran down Logan’s spine. “What do you mean she’s one of us?”

Charles sighed, leaning back in wheelchair slightly, “I suggest everyone take a seat before I proceed.”

“No,” Frank shook his head, “you’re going to tell us now. Straight up, no bullshit. Why are you willing to risk everything for these kids? I know why Murdock and Wilson would – not you!” He shouted over his shoulder at Deadpool when he perked his head up at his name. “Those kids are their family just as much as they’re mine. So, why you? Why are you doing this?”

Logan stood up from his kneeling position and stood next to Frank. Staring down The Professor with matching haunting gazes. Deadpool stopped rocking back and forth, opting to sit still and give the scene before him his undivided attention. Erik stood firm, squeezing the Professor’s shoulder once more. Charles reached up and returned Erik’s squeeze with one of his own. He took another breath, then spoke slowly.

“I’d like to start by saying I didn’t receive this information until a few days ago. When it comes to the past of my X-Men I’m honor bound to respect their privacy until such a time where I must investigate it for the good of the team. I always ensure that the one I am investigating is fully aware and cooperating before I start my search. If they refuse to do so then they are no longer viable to serve on the teams, particularly if something from their past comes back and hurts one of their own. The only time I broke this rule was when you, Logan, brought Scott to me ten years ago.”

Charles shifted in his seat slightly, looking thoroughly uncomfortable. “I delved into Scott’s past, searched for records of him and other family members. I saw that he had a daughter. Brea. I intended to fly her here so she could be with her father and keep their family together, but when he woke up and I could see how deep the damage went, specifically his lack of memory recall, I opted not to. She had a brother who was assigned as her legal Guardian and based on reports I collected I found that he was more than up to the task of performing such a thankless duty. As a result, I decided it was in everyone’s best interests to not involve the pair of them, and for the time being that was that. Scott healed up, and we moved along with our lives. To be honest, until recently I’d completely forgotten he’d had a daughter.”

Charles shook his head, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. “A few days ago, whilst waiting for your return,” he gestured to Logan, “I happened across a few of Scott’s old files in my search of the ones I had on the Avengers when I noticed something quite profound. Something I should have noticed beforehand. There was a picture of Brea in the folder, and nearby was a picture of Violet. I placed the pictures side by side and realized that they were in fact the same person. After that I had Yuriko find more information on Violet and see if we could get a DNA match to prove my realization, and we did. We got a match . . . but also something else.”

“What else?” Frank growled, bristling with anger.

“Scott,” Charles started, exhaling a shaky breath, body physically shivering beneath their intense gazes. “Scott is Violet’s father . . . but he’s not her only father.” Finally, the Professor looked up at the two. “Violet has two fathers, and not just that. She has two _Alpha_ fathers and was born from a Beta mother. Do you all realize what this means?” Charles looked at them pleadingly. “No Omega has ever been born from two strands of Alpha DNA, and especially not from a Beta mother. She’s not just evolved, she’s truly one of a kind.”

Logan reared back, staring at Charles as if he didn’t even know him. Frank looked to Logan, pissed and more than a little scared. What could this mean for Violet? How much more danger was she suddenly privy too based on this information alone?

“This is true?” Logan growled, “you better not be fucking lying to us.”

“I would never do that,” Charles pleaded, “but now you see why I sent the team in?”

“Does Scott know?”

“No, I didn’t have the time to tell him.”

Frank scoffed, hand wiping the top of his head in frustration. “Fucking asshole. Do you realize how bad this is? How much danger this information alone will put her in on top of what she’s already going through?!”

“Goddammit, it’s a wonder she’s survived this long without getting snatched up by – fuck, I don’t know, anyone.” Logan grated, resisting the urge to punch something as he began pacing.

“How the fuck are we supposed to protect her now? If the wrong people find this shit out, she’s toast!”

Logan and Frank stared at each other, frantically searching their thoughts and trying to come up with solutions.

To make matters worse, Deadpool spoke up.

“You two care about Violet?” He spoke calmly, sitting still as a statue.

“Damn right we do,” Frank growled, fists clenching.

Deadpool pulled at his bonds. Not struggling, gesturing. “Cut me loose, let’s handle these fuckers together, and I’ll help make sure she stays safe.”

“And why the fuck would you help us?” Logan shot back; the blades always present within his arms just starting to emerge.

“Because Violet is Omega 13,” Wade answered calmly, surely, stunning the pair with his sudden cooperation. “I found her a few days after she escaped HYDRA’s clutches, saw the mark they carved into her side, and I’ve been trying to look out for her ever since.” He shrugged nonchalantly, “why else would I bother bringing a lawyer and detective into a secret organization like this?”

Logan cocked his head, “that’s why you were being a pain in my ass?”

“No, that was a bonus. I love imagining fucking your ass into oblivion. I’d bet it’d be real a tight fit for me.”

“Wade.”

“Fine!” Wade acquiesced, “but I’m not joking about Violet. I haven’t always been able to protect her, but when I could I did. She deserves to have people looking out for her, especially with all she does to help those that can’t or won’t help themselves.” His head swiveled towards the Professor, “she deserves the best.”

Frank glared at the Professor before abruptly moving towards the bound man on the floor. “And she’ll get it.”

“Wait! Hold on!” Erik pressed, moving to stand protectively in front of Charles. Logan unsheathed his claws, flinching slightly at the pain before growling the pair. Charles shook in his chair, Erik’s outstretched hands trembled. Frank quickly and efficiently cut Deadpool free, and in a matter of a seconds the two stood side by side.

“Alright,” Deadpool clapped his hands together, “let’s tie up these bozos and make some fucking chimichangas. We got some work to do.”

“Are you joking right now,” Erik cut in, staring at the incoming attackers incredulously. “Why would you suddenly believe a man you had tied up and beaten to a pulp?”

Logan answered, already regretting this new partnership, “Wade doesn’t fuck around with kids, nor does he keep them separated from their injured fathers.” He glared pointedly at the Professor, who lowered his head in shame.

“Well, technically I would if the dad was abusing his kid and I responded by beating fifty shades of shit of him.” Deadpool responded, stretching out his body in an obscene manner. “No kid should have to suffer through seeing my handiwork on an abuser.”

“Fair enough,” Logan relented, “point is I know he doesn’t joke around when kids are involved. If he says this happened, then it happened, and we’re going to do our damndest to fix it.”

“Here here!” Deadpool clapped again, grabbing hold of the ropes he was just released and testing them out. “Alright, let’s tie up some old geezers and fix this mess.”

_Dreamland_

Today was a bad day. Brea can see it. Normally the skies were filled with the calming indigo with gold stars shooting across the skies. It still looked that way, but it felt different. The sky always made Brea feel warm, loved, and safer than anyone could understand. Now it made her feel anxious, unsteady, and more than a little angry. Someone hurt Violet. That’s the only explanation. Someone hurt her world, and that was all evidenced by the loud, piercing howl from up above.

Brea was on the beach just like always. The white sand caught in her red fur and stuck in the pads of her paws. The dragons didn’t sing today. Didn’t spew bright, colorful flames. Today, they watched the pointed boulder not far from the beach. They surrounded it, protected it, and the reason why soon came into view.

Howling and crying from its perch, the black and white fox sat on the pointed rock and screamed for the whole world to hear. Brea’s heart pinged and throbbed in empathy for the magnificent fox crying to the skies. Violet is here! She is really here! She doesn’t come to visit much. She must have been really tired.

As the fox howled the colors of the world grew dark, just as the white light she emanated dimmed with it. So much pain, so much agony. Brea couldn’t stand it. She ran towards the pointed rock, eager and determined to right this wrong. The dragons let her pass. The creatures in the woods stayed hidden as they too felt her pain and hid amongst the shadows in order to leave her be. Brea wouldn’t do that, couldn’t do that. Violet needed her, and she was going to help her.

Down the beach, up the rock, and finally sliding next to her side, Brea laid down next the wonderful creature and lapped at her face. She tasted the salt from her tears, tasted the blood on her snout, and felt the pain ease at Brea’s presence.

“Brea?” Violet whispered.

“I’m here,” she scooted in close, placing on top of Violet’s on top of Violet’s in a protective manner. “What happened?”

Violet didn’t answer and Brea didn’t push. Brea would never push Violet. Never. For the next few minutes, the two foxes laid next to one another in comforting silence. Brea felt Violet’s pain ease even more during this time, and she couldn’t help but smile at that. Still, more pain remained, and she was determined to root it out however she could. She breathed calmly, slowly, and Violet’s breaths eventually matched hers.

“Why does everything hurt so bad?” Violet asked suddenly, tears falling once more.

“Do I hurt?” Brea asked, a coy smile on her face.

“No,” Violet sniffled.

“Does Peter hurt?”

A soft snort, “no.”

“How about those brownies, the ones that were supposedly Dad’s super-secret recipe, but really he got it off the back of a box with only an extra tablespoon of vanilla added to it?”

Small laugh, “I always changed it out for almond just to see his reaction. He loved it.”

Brea grinned in triumph, “so, not everything hurts, right?”

Violet shrugged, “maybe not everything, but lately it feels like it.” She sniffled again. “So many things I keep finding out. Things that were lies or mistruths or some shit. Things about myself I’ve been discovering.” She shook her head slightly. “Brea, I don’t know what to do.”

“Tell me what’s going on? Maybe I can help?”

Violet shook her head. “It’s too much to go through.”

“Well tell me what’s making you feel bad right now? What hurt you so much that it brought you back here? Not that I’m not happy. I love having you here. I wish you’d stay all the time.”

“I like seeing you too Brea,” Violet exhaled sharply, “but I’m not sure I should tell you. Honestly, the only reason I’m here is because I got knocked out again. Fucking alphas made me go to sleep, and now I’m down for the count.”

“I can handle it, whatever it is.” Brea shifted so she could nudge Violet with her nose before settling back into place. “I’m right here for you, no matter what. If you want, I can take over for a bit. Give those alphas a taste of their own medicine?”

Violet didn’t speak again, and just like last time, Brea waited. Violet was hurting. She needed someone to be with her, and Brea had no problem being patient. Violet was a Goddess in animal form. She’d always be worth waiting for.

“It’s about Billy,” Violet started, voice cracking in all sorts of places, and Brea was all ears.

_Loki’s Palace_

This was not how Steve imagined his morning going. With Violet almost killing Tony, Peter accidentally shocking Tony in the dick, and now Betty Banner was staring both him and Tony down like they were incompetent idiots, Steve felt like he couldn’t really blame her assumption. They really haven’t been on the ball lately. So many mistakes, hurdles to jump, they haven’t been acting right. The Avengers were needed to handle these things, but they’ve been so concerned with maintaining Violet and Peter that they’ve slacked off. All of them. The only ones who were clear of that were the Guardians and they certainly weren’t helping matters either.

Rocket had disappeared with Clint soon after Violet spared Tony. Quill found them at their ship about ten minutes ago working on weapons, armor, and discussing combat techniques. It was strange, considering the two rarely traded words before, but whatever kept the two busy and on track was good with Steve. The rest of the Guardians have taken residence in the Study with Loki and Thor, no doubt being forced to dust and clean wherever Loki pointed. Rhodey was still trying not to laugh over the current situation and failing miserably as he drank his scotch. Tony was positively sheepish, not daring to look Betty in the eye as the Banners took in the information over the events that have taken place over the previous week. His Stark Pad was taken away because he kept trying to hide behind it.

Peter was surprisingly not backing down before the angry Omega in front of them. Steve was both impressed and confused by the action. Impressed because he knew the kid had to have a backbone after being friends with Violet over the years. There was no way he wouldn’t have learned from her how to stand up for his morals otherwise. Confused though because watching it now made Steve wonder where this could have been earlier. Where was this when all these other things were happening? Was it because Violet wasn’t here to defend him? Was it because he was facing someone familiar? Was it something more?

All the same, Steve was unashamed to admit that he was definitely not at the top of his game this week. Thankfully, the Darcy situation is all but done with. He didn’t want her dead, but there was no point in keeping her around anymore. He wanted to hate himself with how coldly he handled the situation of discussing her departure. How callously he dismissed her once the handlers came in to take her away. Alas, he didn’t. The way he handled the ordeal just proved how little she really meant to him. In his opinion, she was better off elsewhere. He had no doubt Violet would think poorly of him for his actions, but eventually that would pass. Darcy had helped him when no one else could. Made him forget about his pain, distracted him from his dark internal thoughts. Granted, it wasn’t always for the right reasons, but she served her purpose and Steve was grateful for that.

However, Violet has done more for him in their brief meetings than anyone outside of the Avengers has managed to do for him in years. Her morals were so similar to how his used to be. He didn’t like bullies and he wanted the chance, the opportunity to stop them. Violet, in a sense, wants the same thing. It was aimed more towards stopping Alphas from mistreating Omegas, but they both had the same underlying issue. Stop people from taking advantage and hurting other people. Finding that similarity in her current beliefs to Steve’s past beliefs did something to the man.

It made him think about the night HYDRA invaded the tower. Having to fight and capture not only the agents but fiery Violet as well. Chasing her down with Bucky at his side and Natasha slinking around to catch her at the end point. How Violet managed to evade them in the halls of the cafeteria floor, pick a lock and escape a gated room, knock over chairs and slip under table after table until Natasha emerged and stopped her escape. He remembered the defiance, the bravery, the courage in those eyes as they turned from sky blue to starry night. Remembered how labored her breathing was when she pulled out a stun baton and dared them to fight her. It was humbling, standing in such a willful presence that arguably rivaled The Avengers surefire wills. Steve knows he’s a stubborn man, it’s one of his worst faults yet best quality as well, but when he took in the sight of Violet Mason, he felt his will begin to crumble.

Then she moaned.

Steve groaned slightly, feeling his dick twitch in response, forcing the Alpha to adjust in his seat as discreetly as possible. When they took her up to the roof in order to counteract the faux heat she was forced to endure thanks to Darcy’s callous selfishness – not that he had any room to judge – and set her down in the snow, the absolute relief and pleasure that emanated from the marvelous woman had to be the most erotic thing Steve had ever experienced. He hasn’t been as promiscuous as Tony and Nat with their “love lives” but he wasn’t a blushing virgin either. Steve was more selective when it came to those who shared his bed. While each excursion had been fun and exciting, Steve was left thoroughly unsatisfied.

It saddened him with Peggy because the two really got along and meshed well for the most part, but things were doomed from the start for the pair. He was in the Avengers Mafia and she was working to bring them down. She promised to never turn him in on the condition that he would never contact her again and keep out of her business. He’s kept his word, and she’s kept hers. He wasn’t surprised with Sharon and found that he was relieved when she shared his feelings that they were simply better off as friends.

He had a couple of one night stands with Natasha when they were on a mission together – Bucky gave the okay before they did anything – and ironically that was the closest he’s ever felt to being satisfied in bed, but again he wasn’t. She was far too dominant and edgy for him to be truly comfortable in that state. There were a few times he and Bucky thought about doing it, but it never got farther than a couple of blowjobs because Bucky was afraid he’d be too rough with Steve who was unashamed to admit he shared those same concerns. They weren’t related so it wasn’t super weird, but each time the offer came up was after a particularly rough mission for the pair. It went without saying it wasn’t necessarily the best option based purely on the latter fact. The blowjobs were amazing though. Never was he satisfied with Darcy. Most of their “sexy” time was spent in her bed, and he made sure she was thoroughly spent before taking a shower and sleeping elsewhere for the night.

He met Darcy at a coffee shop. She was yelling at someone over the phone, giving them instructions on how to fix a carburetor while balancing her checkbook. Granted she was completely wrong on the carburetor front, and she was doodling flowers and music notes on her paper instead of doing math, but the confidence she wielded while performing these “tasks” struck him to the core. What can he say? He likes a confident woman. It helped, or rather didn’t help when keeping current events in mind, that she reminded him of Peggy, the one person he was willing to take a chance with romantically. That should have been a warning sign, but Steve’s a stubborn man and he wanted to take a risk.

And now that risk, in a way, has led him to Violet.

He thought back to their conversation yesterday morning. Remembered how comfortable and easy it was in each other’s presence. He’s never made soup with someone before. The only person he could recall cooking with at all was Bucky, and that was grabbing a batch of cookies from the oven. Such a simple, meaningful task made him feel . . . useful, needed in a way he hasn’t felt before. It grounded him. His little-known fantasy of cooking, drinking, dancing, and eventually making out with his lover while straddling his lap and smoothing out his shirt with her hands while he tangled his own in her hair.

He groaned again, trying not to let his imagination put him into an awkward situation. Then again, he was already in one. The moment he let himself wish that Violet were his chosen was the moment he was hanging over a sea of shit. Violet, though she resisted, was Bucky and Nat’s. In other words, his brother’s and his trusted friend. They had placed a claim on her five years ago, searched tirelessly and without interruption just as long. Granted, Steve was right there with them the whole way, offered solace and comfort whenever they needed, but none of it mattered.

Simply put, Bucky and Nat called Dibs, and Steve must deal with it or risk losing both his brother and trusted friend, and quite possibly his life too.

Now wasn’t the time to deal with it though. Right now, he needed to fend off Betty Banner and keep Peter from overdoing his rather impressive showing of strength and intestinal fortitude. It’s good to see Peter isn’t afraid to stand up to the Hulk’s wife, but Betty wasn’t exactly level-headed when it came to making decisions when she as angry, stressed, or both. Tony sensed this too, which is why he eventually stood up – rather painfully – from his position on the couch to turn Betty’s attention onto him while Steve moved over to Peter and gently tried guiding him out of the room.

“Betty, I know this isn’t necessarily ideal-”

“Not ideal?!” Betty shot back angrily, crossing her arms and glaring at the resident genius. Bruce was now coddling the baby in his arms and making funny faces to distract both him and his son from the argument occurring in the room. “Tony, we have this system for a reason. It works! Okay? It works and we need to stick with it!”

“Yeah, it worked perfectly fine for you and Bruce, and for the most part it worked with Laura as well, but the old way isn’t going to work with these two.”

“And why not? What’s wrong with the old way that’s prevented you from bringing the Omegas to heel?”

Tony blinked, “I’m sorry have you met Violet?”

“Yes, I met Violet.”

“Did you get a chance to actually talk to her?”

“Not as much as I’ve liked. From what I saw she appeared to be a most serviceable Omega who looked after those in her care, just as an Omega is supposed to do. She made us dinner, ensured both Peter and I were taken care of, and left us to mingle as we wished. When I needed a nurse because of my water breaking prematurely, she had Darcy find one and looked after both Peter and I until Wanda arrived.”

Tony nodded, lips pressed together and humming his agreement while Bruce bit his lip and moved away towards the other end of the room. “Okay, now what do you think she did after that?”

Betty glared at Tony, “I believe she took Peter back to his room and comforted him until your arrival.”

Rhodey laughed again, laying on the countertop and holding his gut. Bruce turned back slightly to stare at his wife in shock before switching to Tony. “I swear to you I did not tell her any of that.”

Betty stared at her husband in shock while Tony nodded and placed a calming hand on Betty’s shoulder. “Betty, Violet spent that night crawling through vents, listening in on private HYDRA conversations, and then proceeded to evade The Captain, The Winter Soldier, and The Black Widow not once, but twice. It would have been thrice if Natasha hadn’t thought ahead and caught her at the service stairwell. On top of that though, Violet landed a hit on the Natasha and stood up to the three and stated, _“I’m not going down without a fight, so go ahead. Do your worst.”_ I got to tell you Betty, that was the ballsiest thing I’ve ever seen an Omega do. On top of that, Peter is the only reason why we even made it into the tower that night. Bypassing some of FRIDAY’s protocols to manually open the doors and allow us to get inside and simultaneously keeping in contact with Violet, Wanda, and Jarvis. Utterly amazing.”

Tony smiled at Peter. Peter smiled back, heart warming at the praise before growing cold once more. Betty glared at Peter. Expression shocked.

“How could you two put yourselves in such needless danger?”

“How can a brilliant scientist such as yourself possess such dated and prejudiced opinions?” Peter returned smoothly, grounded his teeth and questioning his former assessment of his former teacher.

“Peter,” she stated firmly, tilting her head slightly to look down her nose at the young man, “a good Omega is servile, submissive, caring to their Alpha. They follow the rules laid out for them and heed the command. Especially when the Omega is a Chosen for the Avengers. It’s absolutely vital to their success and wellbeing.”

Peter cocked an eyebrow. “So, the only good Omega is one who serves without question?”

“Serves their _Alpha_ without question,” Betty corrected haughtily, “which is exactly what you should be doing right now.” She pointed to Tony, cocking an eyebrow herself, “go on.”

Steve bit his lip to stop the smile from coming. Oh, if only Violet were here. These two were not going to get along.

“If that’s the case, why aren’t you serving him?” Peter pointed to Bruce, who cursed silently at hearing his name.

“Please don’t bring me into this,” he pleaded while rocking his child. “I want no part.”

“If you must know,” Betty straightened up, an arrogant look to her gaze, “Bruce and I might be happily married, but The Hulk is my true Alpha. Since he is currently unavailable, I serve my child and my husband-”

“Who are currently caring for one another and not-so-subtly moving away from you and this conversation?” Peter pointed at the two, feeling terrible for ignoring Bruce’s plea but doing so regardless. “In your opinion I can see how I might be wrong, but scaring your husband and child isn’t a good way of serving them.” Peter shrugged.

Betty made an amused sound, “and ignoring your ailing Alpha isn’t?”

Peter smirked, stepping away from Steve’s grasp and towards Betty. “Mrs. Banner-”

“It’s Dr. Banner,” Betty aimed to correct, but Peter waved it off.

“The only Doctor I see in here is the one caring for his child while his wife is thoroughly and utterly embarrassing herself by revealing how intolerant and discriminatory she is to someone who previously thought the world of her and the work she’s done.” Peter shot back, glaring at the grown Omega before continuing. “You think Good Omegas, as well as Good Chosens, are servile and voiceless. They follow rules and commands without complaint even when doing such could put them into serious and even fatal bodily harm. I’m here to say you couldn’t be more wrong in that belief.” Peter shook his head, completely disgusted with the woman in front of him. “A good Omega and a good chosen is nothing more than a good, decent person who doesn’t relish in harm, but helps others who can’t help themselves. The same goes for a good Alpha and a good beta. Good, decent people.”

Peter glared at Betty, standing toe to toe with the tall, towering woman. “If you want an example of that, actually take the time to talk to Violet. Maybe walk a mile in her shoes if you can stomach it. Personally, I doubt you could. I don’t think you’d last a minute.”

Betty shook her head, disappointment prevalent in her eyes. “You used to be such a good student. Whatever could have happened to that bright-eyed boy eager to know more about Quantum physics?”

“Easy,” Peter answered with a cruel smile, “he watched his sister almost die right in front of him. Shot by a cruel Alpha when she was only trying to protect him. Stuff like that changes people.”

“I’m sorry you went through that,” Betty cut in with a callous tone. “Unfortunately for you, it’s changed you for the worse.”

Peter shook his head, “no Mrs. Banner, it’s enlightened me to what’s really happening in the world. Showing me the truth of my surroundings and the people within them. Particularly people’s true colors to which you’ve definitely shown yours.” Peter paused, taking a deep, steadying breath before continuing. “If being a Good Omega means serving cruel and undeserving Alphas, then I’m more than happy to be a terrible one. Have a good day Mrs. Banner.”

With that, Peter turned away and walked back over to Steve. The Alpha tried not to smile at the young Omega, and from the corner of his eye he noticed Tony was attempting the same thing. Betty always had it rough, her idea of a good Omega askew because that’s exactly what the Hulk needed. He needed someone calm, servile, and unobtrusive because he was already so on edge as he was. Anything more would lead to destruction and potential death. The rest of the Avengers didn’t need that and certainly didn’t want it. For the most part, they wanted equals. People who can handle them at their worst and encourage them at their best. The lone difference was Barton. He wanted someone who could dominate him without taking advantage, and both Laura and Phil were the perfect pair to do such.

Steve intended to guide Peter back to his room when the Omega suddenly gasped. Chocolate doe eyes popping wide and looking towards the corridor where he was intending to go earlier before Steve stopped him. Steve followed his line of sight and froze completely.

In the entry way, Violet stood stiff and still. Blue hair damp and falling all over her face. Wearing a big, oversized black Henley shirt that clearly revealed she wasn’t wearing a bra with no pants or socks leaving her bandaged knee on full display. None of that kept Steve’s attention. It was her eyes. The Starry eyes Steve couldn’t stop thinking about were no longer there. The eyes were a singular color. A color that didn’t fit with Violet at all.

Magenta.

“Violet?!” Peter breathed, smiling in relief, moving to surge towards the girl and undoubtedly hug her tight.

Steve held on firmly, nearly hurting the boy in the process. He roughly pulled him backwards to whisper in his ear, “that’s not Violet.”

Peter looked at him exasperatedly, “what are you-”

“I’m not Violet, I’m Brea.” Brea suddenly spoke in her childish tone, cocking her head as those Magenta eyes took in Peter’s form. “A spider hugging a dog? Never thought I’d see that. It’s a nice look.” She nodded, slowly meandering into the room, eyes roaming and taking in the scene before her. “Are you Peter?”

Peter flinched, glancing at Steve in shock. “Y-Yeah, it’s me. What did you say your name is?”

Those Magenta eyes landed on Peter. She gave him a smile. “Brea. Violet made me, and now she’s letting me out.” She paused, cocking her head in the other direction. “She really loves you by the way.”

“I really love her too,” Peter responded shakily, “she’s means more to me than anyone, even my aunt and Uncle.”

Brea’s smile became more pronounced. “She feels the same way. You should get out of here, so you don’t see anything. She wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

Peter’s mouth dropped, staring at her in confusion. “What’s going on?” He whispered so only Steve could hear him. “Go to Tony, he’ll fill you in.” He informed the boy before speaking up.

“Brea,” the magenta eyes turned to him. “Why is Violet letting you out now?”

Until that point, even with the smile she gave Peter, her expression was mostly blank. No emotion, no life, just dead in its blankness. Now, at Steve’s question, the expression turned angry, full of loathing.

“Someone hurt Violet. Made her cry, break down and turn the whole world dark. That’s not okay. I won’t let that happen.”

Steve shifted so he stood in front of Peter, gingerly pushing him back so he could go to Tony. “Did Violet tell you that?”

Brea nodded, “the wolf and the leopard told her what really happened to Billy, and then made her go to sleep. She came to me, and now I’m going to take care of it.”

“What do you mean?” Peter piped in. “What really happened to Billy?”

Before Steve could do anything else, Brea answered. “A horrible woman made them hurt Billy because he’s the reason she lost her baby. He grabbed hold of her, used her to get out of the building, then threw her down the stairs once he was in the clear.” She lowered her head, nudging the carpet with her naked feet. “That’s really bad, we both know that. He deserved to be punished, but what she wanted was worse. Worse than he deserved.”

“What did she want?” Peter asked before Steve could stop him.

The angry look deepened. Magenta eyes positively burning with rage. “She told them to make him feel all the pain her child would never have to go through. To make him hurt, to scream, to beg for mercy and deliver even more. She wanted him to suffer. Suffer like the terrible Omega he was.”

“Who? Who ordered this?”

Brea gritted her teeth, clenched her fists in a painful grasp, ripping the stitches in her hand as she did.

“Betty. Betty Banner.”

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.imdb.com%2Ftitle%2Ftt4947664%2F&psig=AOvVaw1bMcnjm_aLM9C6d3or67aD&ust=1587867867410000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCJDI9PzCgukCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAI)

(Frank when he hears the truth)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Fpin%2F514888169897745840%2F&psig=AOvVaw0b5P-U228e-wixr0weU8pC&ust=1587868020632000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCMDavdDDgukCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAN)

(Logan Ready to kick ass)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.slashfilm.com%2Fdeadpool-2-credits-scenes%2F&psig=AOvVaw0XmES-xWjyzYQMWKlEWFwl&ust=1587868318887000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCKDtuNfEgukCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAV)

(Someone's happy to be tying up some old dude)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=http%3A%2F%2Frebloggy.com%2Fpost%2Fgif-mine-steve-rogers-various-versions-of-steve-s-i-m-so-getting-laid-tonight%2F113545535844&psig=AOvVaw37Yx7AO3PgZy5EdQOkl0V8&ust=1587868462647000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCJCznpXFgukCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAK)

(Trying and failing not to smile)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fweheartit.com%2Fentry%2F303859138&psig=AOvVaw2Slm4sExy66ZKEM5cYs8KW&ust=1587868577661000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCNCwzdLFgukCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAK)

(Don't we wish Violet could be this happy ?)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.tumblr.com%2Ftagged%2Fprotective-peter-parker&psig=AOvVaw06gabsZt-WT9EwMrO8X-hN&ust=1587868677258000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCJDtoP3FgukCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAD)

(When Peter meets Brea)

(Please ignore the dialogue XD)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So . . . stuff happened. 
> 
> What did you guys think? Was it good? Bad? Ugly? Too terrible to be seen by your precious eyes? No? Well leave me a comment and let me know XD. Did anyone expect Brea to make an appearance? Where was Bucky and Nat when she emerged? Do you think Violet really let her out? How about the bombshell from Charles? What do you think the awesome team-up of Deadpool, Wolverine, and The Punisher will do next? Only one way to find out :D
> 
> Again, thank you all so much being patient with me. I can't promise I'll be able to resume my old posting schedule but I will most certainly try my best. Stay safe out there! Hope you're excited for what happens next! :D:D:D


	19. All In The Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even the most volatile of predators can be calmed by a gentle, friendly voice. Or at least distracted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU ARE ALL AMAZING!!!!! Otherwise known as . . . I'm late! I'm late! I'm very, very late!!! Thank you all so much for your comments and gestures. Working from home has been the bane of my existence. Hopefully I can get a better handle on things soon and I can resume my old writing/posting schedule. No guarantees, but I will do my best! This one is kind of short and little rough, I'm sorry about that, but it's certainly longer than the "Imagine Me and You" excerpt. I hope you guys like it, it's more of a filler than anything else but I promise it will lead into something incredibly cool! Please enjoy!

Chapter 18

All In The Eyes

_Main Room_

Things quickly went into motion.

No matter how angry and justifiably disgusted Peter felt towards his former mentor, he immediately turned towards her and urgently waved at her to move out of the room. Bruce was right there with him. Tucking his newborn child against his chest, reaching out and pulling his wife into a one-armed embrace before swiftly exiting the room. Steve fully stepped in front of Peter, displaying his hands in a calm and nonthreatening manner as he slowly moved towards Brea. Tony walked over to stand next to Peter, whispering urgently in his ear, careful not to touch the Omega. “Please let me grab your hand and take you out of the room. You don’t want to deal with Brea, especially when she’s pissed.”

“No, you may not,” Peter whispered vehemently, pulling away abruptly to glare at the alpha. “What you can do is explain to me what the Hell is going on, and why you know about . . . _this_ ,” he gestured to his friend, “and I don’t.”

“Long story short, this apparently started about a year ago after Violet was found unconscious outside of a zoo. She was dehydrated, beaten up, and her brain was more than a little rattled.”

“I remember, but how do you know about that?” Peter asked, maintaining his whisper despite his furious tone.

“Wanda told us before we arrived here. Brea woke up on the plane and took us for a joyride that almost ended in the afterlife. Wanda provided some insight and we’ve been trying to investigate it ever since. You were asleep at the time so you wouldn’t know any of this. We have footage of the event if you want proof?”

“Later,” Peter bristled, glancing at Brea worriedly, “so what happened?”

“Well, we’re not entirely sure. All we know is that the first time Brea fully emerged was when she woke up in the hospital the night she was found. Wanda was there when it happened, and she’s been trying to keep it under wraps since then.”

“Why?” Peter asked, staring at Tony incredulously.

Before Tony could answer, there was a snarling sound. Sharp. Scary. Peter and Tony turned to face it, promptly flinching away in fear. Brea stood toe to toe with Steve. Teeth bared in a threatening, animal like defensive maneuver. Hands like claws. Body hunched slightly forward, stalking towards Steve. The Alpha remained calm, hands still at his sides and speaking soft words to her, but Peter could see his back stiffen through his impossibly tight shirt. Dread spread through the Omega. The open hands and calm demeanor displayed his willingness to a non-violent approach, but the tension in his back, tension that quickly spread through his body, could only mean he was preparing for a violence.

Peter couldn’t let it go that far.

“Brea,” Peter spoke softly, stepping towards her defensive form and firmly ignoring Tony’s panicked whispers urging him to stop.

Brea flicked her gaze to Peter, relaxing the slightest bit but otherwise gave no response. Peter took a deep breath, moving closer at a slow, careful pace. He could feel Tony move in sync behind him, saw Steve move to the right to allow room for Peter slink past him. Brea remained still, a curious gleam in her eyes as they followed each movement.

 _This isn’t Violet_ , he chanted to himself, _this is something else_. He knows that, yet he has to keep repeating it. He doesn’t know what’s going on, only that his sister is crouched and ready to attack anyone, but it wasn’t his sister that was doing it. Violet’s body was right in front of him, but Violet wasn’t present within it. Evidenced by the empty look in those sky-blue eyes. It was a strange realization. A terrifying revelation that made him want to run for the hills.

He’s not going to though.

Violet is strongest person he knows. The most loyal and devoted friend anyone could hope to have. The kindest, most generous soul with a heart made of gold. Over the years she’s gained some edges, struck by the harshness of reality too many times to count, but the essence of her has remained true and untarnished. She’s been there for Peter, protected him and comforted him more than anyone, even his Aunt and Uncle. Peter’s going to do the same for her, which meant no more shyness. No more pushover. No more insecurity and doubt. Just action and belief. This isn’t Violet, but Peter’s going to be there for her anyway.

That’s what brothers do.

“Brea,” he repeated, hoping his expression displayed the same calm that Steve was projecting.

She tilted her head. “You’re scared.”

So much for the calm. “Yeah, I am.” Peter shrugged, continuing his slow pace towards her. “I haven’t met you before. I’ve only ever known Violet.”

She smiled at the mention of Violet. “She’s amazing.”

“She really is,” Peter nodded, “the best person I’ll ever meet.”

Her smile waned, body straightening, all defensive signs melting away as she turned to face Peter fully. “She deserves the best.”

“She does,” Peter agreed wholeheartedly, stopping just a few or two away from Brea. “I’d give her the sun and the stars if I could. Something’s telling me you would too.”

Brea shook her head, “can’t give her what she already is.” Her head dropped back, facing the ceiling while her body completely relaxed, eyes closed. “She’s the stars and the sky. The white sand and the sapphire waters. The warmth in the air and the wind that flutters the trees. She’s-” Brea hesitated, smiling slightly, “she’s my whole world.”

With a pang in his heart, Peter reached out, careful not to touch her. “She’s my whole world too.”

Brea flung her head forward, a slight pop reverberated throughout the room. She looked at his outstretched, eyes widening in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“Um,” Peter hesitated, doubt attempting to crawl through his brain and back of out of his decision. He forced the doubt away, just like he did when confronting Betty earlier. There’s no time for petty feelings. Violet needs help and Gosh darn it he was going to help her. “I was going to put it on your shoulder, but if you’re willing, I’d rather hug you instead.”

She straightened up in surprise. “Really?”

Peter nodded, blatantly ignoring Tony frightened whisper, _trust me kid you don’t want her hugging you_.

She shifted slightly, picking at her nails and staring at the ground. “May I . . .” she glanced up at him, a coy and shy gesture that made Peter’s brain almost explode. “May I bite you?”

Oh boy. “Um,” Peter hesitated, rattling his brain for a good response.

“Fuck no,” Tony responded in a rude tone, and would have continued if Peter hadn’t raised a hand, cutting off his next comment with an angry shush. Brea glared at him, baring her teeth slightly, beginning to slip back into her defensive crouch.

“Don’t mind him, Brea.” Peter assured, not sparing Tony a glance. “He’s just – just trying to be protective. That’s all. Just like you’re trying to protect Violet.” That loosened her up. Mulling over Peter’s statement and relaxing once more. He took a deep breath, gingerly resting both hands on her shoulders before continuing. “Would Violet be okay with you doing that? Biting me and all?”

She frowned, shoulders sagging at his question, “no.”

Peter smiled gently, “I guess you have your answer then.”

“Wade lets me bite him,” Brea pouted, looking down at the floor.

“Who’s Wade?” Peter sorted through his memories, trying to remember if Violet ever mentioned a Wade.

Brea’s head snapped up. Expression instantly animated. “He’s Mama Bear. He taught me how to fight.”

“Mama Bear?” Peter questioned, not seeing a connection.

Brea nodded excitedly. “He found us, well me, after I left the Phoenix lady in the hospital room. I thought he was my dad, our dad, at first but I was wrong. Doesn’t matter though because he became our mom!”

“Oh really?” Peter felt very lost. “How so?”

“I saw his face. He said it was ugly, but I told him it wasn’t. He didn’t believe me, so I showed him something that was really ugly.” Suddenly she grabbed her shirt, pulled away from Peter, and before anyone could stop her, ripped it off her body and threw it over to the bar where Rhodey was still and watching the show.

He wasn’t watching anymore.

Peter gasped at the sight before him. Trying and failing to keep a somewhat calm composure. Brea, who had taken over his sister’s body, is now standing there naked from the waist up. Thank God she’s still wearing underwear. Peter’s eyes flew away from her body and went to ceiling, the fireplace, Tony, Steve, the couch, the bar, Rhodey who had grabbed his scotch and was now running out of the room, and then back to Steve. The Alpha stared resolutely up at the ceiling, taking deep breaths, crossing his arms, keeping all his focus away from his sister’s naked form. From the corner of Peter’s eye, he noticed Tony had full on turned his back to Brea and was whispering furiously to Friday.

Maybe they weren’t so bad after all?

Meanwhile, Brea started talking again like she was getting ice cream at her favorite parlor instead of stripping naked and shocking the whole room. “I showed it to him, and he promise he’d never let anyone hurt me like that again. Me and Violet both. Then he pulled me up in his arms and got me tacos. They were really spicy.” She lifted her arm, turning slightly to show Peter the scar. “Did you see this?”

Peter nodded, keeping his eyes focused on her face and absolutely nowhere else. “She showed us earlier this week.”

“Boo, I wanted to show you.” Brea then shrugged, lowering her arm and stepping towards him. “Are you still going to hug me?”

Oh God. “Yeah, just- um, would you mind putting your shirt back on?” Peter pointed towards the bar.

She cocked her head, expression confused. “What do you mean?”

“Your shirt,” he pointed harder, “that way you’re n-not, you know,” he used his other hand to gesture towards her, refusing to look in that area.

She looked down, shrugged, and returned her gaze. “What’s wrong?”

His mouth dropped, “um.” He didn’t know how to respond to that. He overheard Tony whispers. _Goddammit Friday, get them over here. Brea’s out and she’s fucking pissed. Tell them it’s an emergency!_ Brea’s eyes narrowed, gaze shifting from Peter to Tony.

Thankfully, Steve finally spoke up before anything could happen. “You’re naked, sweetie. That’s why Peter’s asking you to put your shirt back on.”

Brea turned to face Steve, “but why? What’s wrong with me?” She looked down again. “It’s just fur.”

Peter reared back, trying to find some logic in that statement. Steve sighed, “I know little fox.” Little fox? What?! Peter wonder if it had something to do with the spider and dog comment. “But how do you think Violet will react when she comes back? Do you think she’ll be happy to be in nothing but her fur around people she doesn’t know very well?”

Brea glared at him. “You suck.” Promptly turning on her heel, Brea moved towards Peter until they were only inches apart. “I miss Wade.”

Wade. Got it. He can follow that thread. Leave the shirt topic for now until she’s not angry about it. She likes talking about Wade. Peter can do that. “When’s the last time you saw him?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just miss him. He used to let me bite him all the time when I felt bad.”

“Bite where?” Peter asked before he thought better of it.

“His arms,” she patted her forearm, “I got his neck a few times though. He wasn’t very happy, but he still made me a chimichanga though. I even got his thigh once.” She shivered, “not a good day. He grounded me and refused to teach me that grapple move I wanted to do.”

“He was teaching you how to fight?”

She smiled, “yeah! I was getting pretty good at it too, but then Violet took over for good and that was that. He promised he’d help keep an eye on her though.”

“That’s good of him,” Peter commented, floundering through the conversation. “Do you feel bad right now?”

Brea nodded, “yeah. Violet’s hurt, and it’s because of that-that Betty chick. She deserves to feel what Violet feels, and then she deserves to die. Slowly.”

“I agree,” Peter stated without thinking, surprised to realize he _did_ agree with Brea. “I agree that Betty should be punished for what she did, but it’s like I told Violet. Just because they deserve it doesn’t mean you should be the one supplying the punishment. You want to know why?”

Brea hesitated before answering, staring at Peter curiously, “why?”

“Because if you do it, then you’re no better than them. You’re just more of the same.”

“Sounds like something Violet would say.”

Peter smiled. “In her own way, she has.”

“So,” Brea bit her lip, mulling over Peter’s statement, “if I hurt Betty, then Violet will be mad?”

“She won’t be mad; she’ll be even more hurt.”

Brea physically drooped, leaning forward and pressing her forehead against Peter’s. He remained still, ignoring his racing heart in favor of keeping Brea calm and levelheaded. “I miss Wade.”

Peter glanced at the Stark Pad, an idea coming to mind. “Why don’t we call him?”

Brea perked up; the droopiness gone in an instant. “Really?”

“Yes,” Peter responded assuredly, glaring at Tony who was spluttering and gesturing angrily. “I’d love to talk to the guy who protected you and Violet when she was at her most vulnerable.”

“Yay!” Brea clapped, jumping up and down in place. “Such a nice spider!”

Then she hugged him, and it took everything ounce of will Peter had to not run away screaming. His sister is naked, and she’s hugging him. Her boobs are touching his chest. He can feel them through his shirt. So much skin. So much exposure. _Just breathe. Just breathe. What would Violet do?_ At the question, Peter immediately wrapped his arms around Brea and pulled her in closer. She hummed at the contact, a pleased sound. If the roles were reversed, and Peter suddenly became Penny or something, Violet wouldn’t stand there like an idiot. She’d pulled him in close, wrap him up tight, and do her best to cover him up so he was less exposed, less vulnerable to wandering eyes.

It was only pure luck that no one’s eyes deigned to wander in this room.

With his mind made up, Peter began pulling her towards the couches. She went willingly, fingers lazily rubbings circles along his upper spine. Hooking his chin over her shoulder, he glared at Steve and started angrily gesturing towards the bar area where her shirt was thrown haphazardly. Steve nodded, refusing to look at Brea as he sauntered away.

“So,” Peter started, unsure of where he wanted to take this conversation, “Wade found you at the hospital?”

She hummed contentedly, “yeah. Brought me back too. Made sure Violet and I were okay. Stayed with us. Took care of us. I wish Violet could meet him. I know she’d love him.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Because I love him,” Brea sighed, nuzzling Peter’s neck, “how can she not love someone I love? Besides, he’s Mama Bear.” Suddenly she pulled back, hands grabbing Peter’s face, dead eyes somehow full of worry. “Are you okay?”

Wow, it’s hard to keep up with her. “Yeah, why do you ask?”

“You’re really cold.”

He is? “I am?”

Brea nodded frantically, pulling him back into her embrace, and smushing her body against his. “You’re freezing.”

“Well, it is pretty cold here.”

“To a spider like you,” she mumbled in the crook of his neck, pushing him backwards.

He went willingly. “Why do you keep calling me a Spider?”

She pulled her head back, an inquisitive look about her. “Because you are one. Makes a lot of sense too since spiders can’t thermoregulate.”

That makes way too much sense to Peter. “How do you figure I’m a spider? Plenty of beings can’t thermoregulate very well.”

She closed her eyes, tapping them gently with her index finger before opening them again. “It’s all in the eyes.”

“What is?”

She cocked her head, smiling. “Our true selves.”

Peter pulled back, unsure of how to feel about her statement. “I thought it was true colors and such.”

Brea shrugged, “I see those too, but only with a few. Violet sees them too.”

“Do you see mine?”

“No,” Brea answered, shaking her head, “but I see the leopard lady’s and the wolf man’s too. I see his too.” She turned and pointed to-

Steve.

Shirt in hand, Steve stopped dead in his tracks. Eyes bulging at her pointed finger. Peter grabbed it, turning her back to him. “What do you mean you see his?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I mean-I see them. When me and Violet look at yours they stay chocolate brown. When we look at the flying squirrel,” her free hand gestured to Tony, “his stay the same poopy brown.” Tony scoffed at the remark, but Brea didn’t stop. “But the leopard lady’s changes to this weird red color. I’m not sure what it’s called but I’m sure Violet does. The wolf’s changes to crimson, like the color from that Lion House in that TV Show you won’t finish. The one with the lions, the wolves, and the Dragon lady?”

“Game of Thrones?” Peter offered.

“Yeah,” Brea laughed, “Violet totally has a crush on one of the actors.”

Peter gasped, “seriously? She said she didn’t!”

“It didn’t happen until season 8, which totally ends terribly. Violet’s still mad about it.”

“Define terribly?” Peter asked before shaking his head, “wait! No! Forget that. Who else’s eyes change?” He didn’t know why this was so important to him, but something in his gut told him he needed to know. To get down to the bottom of it.

“Well, his does.” She pointed to Steve again. “It’s really hard to catch. I don’t think Violet realizes it yet. There’s red on the edge, but it bleeds into white strands that twirl into the blue and makes swirls that connect to the big black spot. Kind of like that painting Violet really likes. The one with the stars and the guy who cut off his ear or something? Had a bunch of swirls and such.”

“ _Starry Night_?”

“Yeah, I think that’s it. Also, another guy. His name sounds like yours, and he’s the Phoenix lady’s brother.”

“Pietro?”

“Yeah, the cheetah! He’s really nice too. His eyes change to silver with hues of blue. Like when those smiths melt it down and reshape it into swords or something lethal.” She grinned, giggling slightly, “Violet used to have a crush on him, but don’t tell her I told you. She doesn’t realize most of this because she keeps tuning it out. She tends to avoid anything that deals with emotional vulnerability.”

Brea’s having the time of her life. Meanwhile, Peter’s panicking. Not as much as Steve though. He looked visibly shaken, free hand reaching to his eyes without going so far as to touch them. It shook in the air. Tony stood from afar, mouth open in shock, giving Steve a look that was filled with both pity and compassion. Something that speaks volumes, like Tony knows what he’s going through. How could that be? What could Tony Stark know of this type of situation?

“Why don’t we take a seat and give Wade that call now? Get his thoughts on this situation?”

“Okay,” Brea giggled, pulling away from Peter once more and collapsing onto the couch.

Or she would have if a stern voice hadn’t spoken up.

“No one’s calling anybody,” Peter turned abruptly to face the Brea had emerged from not so long ago, “and you are going to bring Violet back. Now.”

Natasha Romanoff spoke firmly, eloquently. Tying her silky robe with his matching tie, the terrifying woman stood tall, staring down Brea as James Barnes emerged behind her wearing only black sleep pants.

“Brea,” he pleaded softly, “let Violet come back now. Let us take care of her.”

Brea responded with a growl. “You hurt Violet.”

“Brea,” Natasha stalked forward, bravely stepping close to Brea’s defensive form. “bring Violet back-”

“You hurt her,” Brea repeated, tone darkening astronomically. “Now I’m going to hurt you.”

In the blink of an eye, Brea launched herself towards the Alphas, and the fight was on.

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Fpin%2F384776361909172078%2F&psig=AOvVaw3k-bu4LlEKA0swrbgFRXZV&ust=1589086876524000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCJjSrYuApukCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAP)

(Peter the entire time)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fweheartit.com%2Fentry%2F60568786&psig=AOvVaw01xqz5iEzqdbQxPX403t9f&ust=1589086985068000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCJCNlcCApukCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAm)

(What will Steve do next?)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Faminoapps.com%2Fc%2Fmarvel-cinematic-universe%2Fpage%2Fitem%2Fpietro-maximoff-quicksilver%2FPJWV_baRC3I6g0YPXv3qVoK73EWPG2RZxqW&psig=AOvVaw24HIJ-IkyuJXdRGKcSiGxw&ust=1589087288819000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCLjbg9CBpukCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAv)

( XD )

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fpictame2.com%2Ftag%2FLisBts%2F&psig=AOvVaw0UUMAbkEIv1K0jjgVSespK&ust=1589086611312000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCMCss5j_pekCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAa)

(Clue for next chapter ;D)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amid the inevitable fight that's about to happen, keep this thought in mind. What happened last time Brea was in control while Violet was asleep? What do you think will happen with Violet in the next chapter? Hint- it involves a junkyard. Cue evil emoticon.
> 
> Thank you all again! Please leave a comment and let me know what you think!


	20. Chop Suey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violet and Brea. Two sides of the same coin. What did Violet find that left her wanted for life by HYDRA? What brought Brea to the surface? What happened at the Junkyard?
> 
> Song inspiration for this chapter goes to this cover of "Chop Suey" by System of a Down. 
> 
> https://youtu.be/vUpcCN_PWYw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I go into this, I need to state this real quick.
> 
> YOU ARE ALL AMAZING!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BEING PATIENT AND STILL READING THIS STORY AFTER THIS TERRIBLE WAIT. I LOVE AND APPRECIATE YOU ALL! I HOPE EVERYONE IS STAYING SAFE AND IS OKAY!
> 
> Now, here's a quick note. 
> 
> This chapter is rough in more ways than one. The subject matter is rough. There's a graphic fight scene and threatening/triggering language so here is a warning for that. Also, sadly, grammar is not that great, but I'm just glad I was able to post something. I didn't want to leave you guys waiting any longer after it's taken me over a month to post just these past two chapters. That being said, there is a lot of stuff happening in here. Check out the end notes for my brief explanation to help clear up any possible confusion. 
> 
> Once again, THANK YOU, and enjoy the chapter :D

Chapter 19

Chop Suey

_Violet_

_Dream Land_

Violet didn’t know where she was, but she knew she’d been here before. She didn’t remember seeing this, but she remembered feeling it. A familiar stranger she couldn’t pinpoint in her list of scattered memories, but deep inside she knew who it was. What this was. This was her nightmare. This was her memory.

And she was finally seeing it.

One moment she was laying on the bed drifting off into a forced sleep. Bucky and Natasha laying on either side of her whispering calming words as the darkness took her. The next she was opening a truck door, breathing in the hot, muggy forest air, and stepping onto a gravelly path. The rocks crunched and moved beneath her feet as she turned to slam the truck door shut. Brow furrowed, teeth digging into her bottom lip, she walked towards the fork in the road. Another slam sounded behind her followed by crunching footsteps advancing towards her. She crossed her arms, fingers gently tapping her bicep while scanning the two different paths and determining which way the Alpha could have gone.

“Lost?” Questioned Groot, sidling up next to her, “or stuck?”

“More deterred,” Violet mumbled, studying the separate paths with increasing unease. “You still have the map of this place?”

“Of course,” Groot answered quickly. Digging into his back pocket and displaying the thick piece of parchment with a smile. “We’re on the right path. Both roads take us to the same destination-”

“But not the destination we’re aiming for.” Violet concluded, nodding in acknowledgement.

Groot took a second to look at the parchment, surveying the map of the woods, “yeah, each road takes us out of the forest. How did you know?”

“Weird feeling,” Violet took a breath, calming her nerves, “something’s not right. Feels too . . . easy? Maybe?”

“Like we’re a horse being led by a carrot on a string?” Groot offered, folding up the map and placing it back in his pocket.

Violet nodded, “something like that.” She moved forward a bit more, closing her eyes and taking in the sounds from all around her. The crunch of the gravel, the chirps from the birds, the howl of the wind, the sound of her breathing. Groot shuffled slightly from behind her. He was nervous. He normally was when they ventured this far from New York, especially when they were looking for abusive Alphas in the hopes of catching them and bringing them to justice for one thing or another. It irked and angered Violet when abusers were sentenced to jail for less threatening crimes (tax evasion, larceny, vandalism) instead of the crime they deserved to be punished for the most. Sadly, that’s just how it is. Violet found solace that the abusers were in jail, away from those they abused, and she had a small part in it, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

The Alpha they were looking for was a piece of work. Brock Rumlow. Sadistic, arrogant, and full on psychopath. Violet twitched as the memory of his cold and unforgiving mugshot whizzed through her mind. Rap sheet a mile long, filled with things Violet didn’t care to think about. None of which landed him in jail for longer than a night. He had friends in high places, rich and shady friends Violet had no doubt employed him to do the things he was “caught” doing, along with worse things he _wasn’t_ caught doing. Things that included fire, acid, and innocent Omegas who didn’t deserve their cruel fates.

She knew this was risky. Knew Groot had every right to be nervous. She was nervous too. This wasn’t a run of the mill Alpha who hurt his Omega partner. This guy was bad news. Really bad news. The bad news you see in horror movies, thrillers, and Joe Hill novels. Most people would run the other way and refuse to believe this guy ever existed, leaving him to his own devices and continue his terrible work, and the police haven’t been able to hold him. Most importantly, Sam stood tall and swore to Rumlow that he would do everything in his power to take Rumlow down. No matter the cost. Rumlow smiled in response, and promised Sam he’d be seeing him real soon, then left with a wink.

Violet was at the station when it happened. Saw the whole interaction and watched Rumlow leave in a fancy car surrounded by men in equally fancy suits. Sam was in over his head, that much was clear. Violet wasn’t stupid, she was in over her head too, but she wasn’t going to stop. Sam put himself out there, made it known to Rumlow and whoever was backing him that he was going to bring him down, and if someone didn’t stop him, Sam was surely going to die.

Its why Violet was out here. Why she was following this dangerous man when normal, sane people would run away screaming. This guy was bad enough to warrant going out of her way to bring the bastard down, but now her friend was quite possibly on his hit list. He was going to make an example out of Sam, and in Violet’s opinion, that meant war. She couldn’t bring him down with fists, but with smarts and prowess she had a chance.

The only snag was Groot insisted on coming with her. This was dangerous and she didn’t want him to come along for that very reason. Unfortunately, though Frank and Billy taught her well when it came to necessary survival tactics, she still couldn’t read a map very well and Groot just so happened to be a savant. Now they’re out in a forest in New Jersey, almost melting in the July heat, and stuck at a fork in the road with a puzzling conundrum. Where could this guy have gone? Which way did he go? They managed to follow the alpha here shortly after leaving the terrible café. Found him at the motel Violet tracked him too thanks to Sam’s files and a sorely waitress at a pancake house on the edge of Manhattan. Now they had seemingly lost him in the woods after carefully tailing him for the past few hours.

Or did they lose him?

Violet cocked her head, a sudden thought coming to mind. She tore her eyes away from the gravel roads and trained them on the trees. Particularly the ground in which they sprouted. She moved forward, careful with her steps as she searched the ground for any clues. “Hey Groot?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember that Robert Frost poem?” Violet stepped off the path, slipping through a thicket of trees.

He was right behind her, clumsily following her lead. “That gentle night one? The rage against the light or something?”

She snorted, “ _Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night_?”

“Yeah, that one. That’s your favorite, right?” He huffed, grunting as the pair pushed through some bushes.

“Yes, it’s my favorite, but that’s Dylan Thomas. I’m talking about a different one.”

“Which one?”

“ _The Road Not Taken._ You heard of that one?” She climbed over a fall log, reaching out behind her to help steady Groot so he didn’t wobble.

“Maybe,” he grunted, “what about it?”

“ _Two roads diverged in a wood,_ ” Violet quoted, pushing harder than before towards a bush next to a tree that looked out of place. A bush with a multitude of tracks surrounding it. Footprints intermingling with tire tracks. “ _And I – I took the one less traveled by,_ ” she reached out, grabbing the thicket of leaves, abruptly pulling, “ _and that has made all the difference._ ”

The thicket of leaves was actually a blanket with leaves, sticks, moss, and other nature-based accoutrements sown and glued into a fishing net. Beneath the net was a motorcycle. The tires matched the tracked imbedded into the dirt. The same one Groot and Violet had been following not so long ago. The engine was still warm. He was still around here somewhere. Violet pointed to a trail of tracks leading away from the bike and deeper into the forest.

“Are you sure about this Violet?” Groot whispered, “it’s not too late to head back.”

“If we leave, he’s going to hurt someone else. Could be another Omega, could be Sam, could be anyone. If we don’t do something, anything to stop him after coming this far, then we’re hurting them too.” Violet glanced up, appraising Groot. “I’m going, but you don’t have to.”

“You go, I go,” Groot cut in, “that’s the deal.”

“One you can back of,” Violet reminded gently, “you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“Doesn’t matter if I want to. What matters is that you’re going to, and I have your back. Besides,” he smirked suddenly, “if the situation were reversed, there’s no way you’d ever leave me behind. Ever. I’m going to do the same for you whether you like it or not.”

She grunted, amused. He was right. She’d never leave him behind. Even if he begged her too. She’d rather die than leave him behind to save her own skin.

Reaching a mutual understanding, the pair readied themselves to trudge onward, but Violet paused. Something caught her eye. A strange glint on the bike that didn’t belong there. There was a bag on the backseat, halfway zipped like it was freshly open but not closed all the way. Without thinking, Violet reached out and opened the bag. Eyes bulging at the sight of the contents.

“What is that?”

Inside the bag were vials. Glass vials filled with clear liquids. All of them labeled with the same sticker, same scientific jargon, same title, same Doctor.

“SSS. Dr. Abraham Erksine. Project Rebirth?” Groot mumbled aloud, reading over Violet’s shoulder “what the Hell is this?”

“I don’t know, but something’s telling me Rumlow wouldn’t leave something like this behind. The bastard’s sadistic, but that doesn’t mean he’s stupid.” Violet glanced around the area, a suspicious pang zinging through her system. She zipped the bag and pulled it from the bike. “Let’s go hide this near the truck, then we’ll follow the trail.”

She looked up to see Groot’s nod, and then together quickly ventured back the way came.

_Peter_

_Real Time_

Peter never gave much credence to the story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. He had found it durative, overtly employed as a warning sign for ambitious pursuits, and thought it to be an exaggeration of the human condition amid mental breakdowns. Watching Brea take over his sister’s body and combat two of the scariest people Peter ever met made him reconsider his views of the story. Violet certainly wasn’t a scientist, and Brea certainly wasn’t a demented monster, but he easily saw the comparisons between the literary characters in the battle that was raging. Both physically and mentally.

Violet, this version of Dr. Jekyll, was gone. Brea, taking the role of Mr. Hyde to euphoric heights, reigned free and tore through the Avengers like they were stuffed animals fighting an assassin. She moved with surprising grace. Surprising because she seemed so erratic, so easily distracted with regular conversation, yet in this form she was precise, quick, and scarier than Peter thought possible.

Ms. Romanov was the first disbanded by Brea. The men stepped back to let woman handle her, but that was a mistake. Lightning fast, Brea simultaneously punched the Alpha in the throat with her right hand while the other grabbed the loosened tie synched at her waist, pulling it loose from the loops. Then, as Natasha backed up in surprise to catch her breath, Brea threw up the tie, slid beneath Natasha’s raised hands until she was behind her, caught the tie and pulled back.

It caught around Natasha’s throat.

Brea turned once more, using her momentum to pull the tie which yanked dangerously at Natasha’s throat. Natasha’s eyes widened as the move effectively flipped her over Brea’s back, and crashing painfully to the floor. Brea didn’t take a breath, didn’t give Natasha a moment to react to what was happening before moving once again. Looping the tie around her throat and using the ends to pick Natasha up off the floor. Natasha tried to fight back, tried to turn in an effort to stop Brea, tried clawing at the tie caught at her throat, but none of it was good. Brea was too quick. In a move straight of a video game, Brea abruptly pulled back Natasha and kneed her in the back of the head. Not once. Not twice. Three times. Then, with a savage turn, Brea sent Natasha headfirst into the edge of the bar, a sickening crack heard throughout the room. Natasha fell to the ground and made no move. No sound.

Brea let out a breath, turning to Steve and Mr. Barnes who stared in shocked horror at the naked girl standing before them. She moved forward, grabbing two empty beer bottles, and smashing them against the harsh surface. She wore a smile, sick with euphoric glee.

“You saw how I do my bondage,” she spoke in that high, childish voice. She flipped the broken bottles in the air, catching them perfectly. Shivers went down Peter’s spine. “Want to know how I do nipple play?”

Brea smiled cruelly, then lunged.

_Violet_

_Dream Land_

One moment Groot and Violet were fleeing through the forest on foot after Rumlow spotted them – after successfully hiding the bag of secret vials – while pissing on a tree, the next moment they’re tied up in the back of a moving truck, Groot’s truck, in route to somewhere unknown. They weren’t alone in their captive states. Squeals and muffled screams from other captives sounded away next to them. Violet tried to fight her way free, tried to help whoever she could, but nothing came of it. She was tied down, same as Groot. Every time they struggled, boots would kick them and laugh at the effort.

“Keep it up! I’m sure you’ll escape in no time!” Taunting voices from unseen faces sounded around them. Violet growled. Groot growled. The laughter continued. The journey continued.

They were stuck, but not forever.

The next moment they were in cages, or rather Violet was. The thugs just pulled Groot from his cage. He and Violet were separated upon arrival. Shoved into different rooms and subjected to being forced down onto a table and held captive while a knife was taken to their sides, carving something cruel and obscene that would forever mark them. Forcing them to remember this terrible ordeal for the rest of their days. Then they were thrown into opposing cages. Violet with the women, a healthy dose of all second genders. Groot with the men, mostly Betas with peppering’s of Alphas.

Now they were taking him. He fought their hold to no avail. Batons swung, fists flew, each connecting and pummeling her friend to the ground. Violet kicked and pulled at the bars, desperate to get their hands off him. Groot looked beseechingly at her. Violet thought the look was a plea for her to save him. She didn’t realize the plea was for her to save herself.

“It’s going to be okay,” Violet vehemently called to Groot as the thugs dragged him by. “I’m going to get us out of here!”

“Violet!” He called back to her, garbled, and muffled from the blood pouring from his mouth.

“I’m going to find you! I’m going to save you! I promise! I’ll find you!”

“Save yourself!” He groaned, keeping his eyes on her for as long as he could. “Get out of here!”

“No! Not without you!” Violet screamed, pulling at the bars harder than before. Heart pounding hard against her chest, head throbbing, nose bleeding profusely, the taste of blood on her tongue.

They took a turn down the hallway, and the everything shifted once more.

Flashes of horrifying spectacles proceeded. Helpless victims bent over tables, facing the cages as they were assaulted and violated by those that held them captive. Violet watched, scratching, and clawing at the bars and herself, itching to slip through and save the people from this fate. Save Groot from whatever they were doing to him. More flashes, more victims, more screams and desperate pleas filled the room. Violet searched for a way out. Searched for a way to save them, to stop the thugs, to do something worthwhile.

The scene shifted again. Rumlow entered the room. Eyes immediately going to Violet. Standing proudly outside of her cage. She spat at him, staring him down defiantly.

“I knew you were going to be fun,” he laughed cruelly, stalking around the cage like a predator. “Fighters make things interesting. Really tune up the stakes, keep me on my toes. I like a challenge, but I love winning more.” He stopped outside of the cage door, smile growing in anticipation. “That Detective friend of yours shouldn’t have made it so easy to get to him. Shouldn’t have pissed me off. Knew I couldn’t get to him, too obvious to the masses. You though, some stupid teenager running wild? Going places you don’t belong? So easy. So, so easy. The perfect lesson for a nosy detective.” He displayed a set of keys, moving to unlock the door.

Violet moved with surprising quickness. One hand reached to grab the keys while the other strikes like a snake, and jabbed him in the eyes, forcing him to stumble back in stunned surprise. She pulled the keys from his grasp, grabbed him by the collar, and pulled sharply. His head connected with the metal cage. A sharp ringing sound reverberated throughout the room. She did it again. Then again. Then again. Each time he looked more dazed then the last. She released him, and he fell to the ground without a sound.

A firm set to her mouth, she unlocked the cage, and jumped out. Kneeling to the floor and checking for a pulse on Rumlow’s fallen form. She found one and let out a minor sigh of relief. The man was demon, cold and cruel, more than deserving of a horrible death, but that wasn’t for her to decide. Violet’s not a killer, and she wasn’t going to change that over him.

Standing back up, Violet turned back towards the cage. “C’mon! It’s now or never! Get out of there and help me with the other prisoners!”

A lanky, blonde beta wearing what once was a beautiful red dress was the first to step out. “Tell me what you need!”

“Get them out, then help me find a way out of this place.” Violet stated as an Omega gingerly climbed out of a cage and came to stand next to the blonde Beta.

“What are you going to be doing?” The omega interjected, her dark hair running wild over her beautiful face, and oddly enough highlighting her dark-skinned complexion.

“I’m going to get those guys out,” Violet pointed towards the cage where Groot was previously held, “then I’m going to find my friend.”

“We’re going with you,” the beta stated firmly. “You’re not going to want to take these guys on by yourself. You’ll get swarmed in a matter of seconds.”

“Someone has to get the rest to safety,” Violet tried to argue, but the Omega stepped up and placed a firm, comforting hand on Violet’s shoulder.

“Molly here will handle it,” the Omega pointed behind them to a sickly, thin Alpha. She looked to be around Violet’s age. Her body appeared so weak, so starved, but her eyes were fierce. She nodded with purpose, waving at the other captives and ushering them out of the cage. Violet nodded in return. Who was she to judge? Just because someone looks weak doesn’t mean they are. She knows that better than anyone. Alphas think that about her all the time.

“Who are you guys?”

The beta stepped forward, “my name is Carol. Carol Danvers. This is here is my fiancé, Marie Rambeau.” The Omega, Marie as Violet just learned, smiled in response.

“I’m Violet, my friend’s name is Groot.”

Carol smirked, “pleasure to meet you, now let’s go find Groot.”

_Peter_

_Real Time_

Peter barely heard Tony whisper, “I’m sorry, please forgive me,” before Peter felt hands on his shoulders. Yelping, Peter was pushed to the ground and suddenly pulled to hide behind the couch. He looked up just in time to see Tony tackling him and caging him to the ground.

“What are you doing?! We need to stop her!”

“That thing just knocked out the Black Widow in the time it takes me to pour a double shot of whiskey. The only people who have a chance against her are about to endure her version of nipple play. We are going to stay out of her way and call for backup.” Tony whispered frantically in Peter’s ear while desperately reaching out to grab his Stark Pad that lay abandoned on the table a few feet away from them.

“You just said the only ones who can stop her are already fighting her!” Peter whispered back, attempting to look over the arm of the couch to see what was happening. Grunts or exertion, shouts of pain, curses, and pleas for Violet to “wake up!”. Tony pushed Peter back to ground, caging him from above as he whizzed through the pad.

“Numbers can’t hurt, and they won’t all be coming here. Some are going to protect Betty, Bruce, and the baby. The rest will be coming here to help handle that,” he gestured towards the fight. A sudden scream reverberated throughout the room. Peter gasped. That wasn’t Brea. It sounded like Mr. Barnes. “Shit! No!” Steve’s voice quickly followed the scream. A grunt of pain. Peter tried to look and see what was happening. Tony pushed him down, straddling Peter and putting all his weight on Omega.

“Tony, get off!”

“No fucking way! I’m not letting you see that, even if I have to throw you into a damn box. You can punish me later!” Tony growled, fingers sliding furiously across the Stark Pad screen. “Dammit FRIDAY, hurry them up.”

“Violet,” wheezed a garbled voice from the bar. “Violet, wake up.”

“Shush puppy,” Brea crooned, “I got a bitch to flay.”

There was thud, a gasping sound followed another thud and a grunt of pain.

Peter and Tony looked at each other. Peter, scared and trembling. Tony, terrified but holding steadfast. They reached out to one another, grasping tightly, painfully. Peter’s breathing kicked up a notch, sudden tears blurring his vision. Tony leaned in, foreheads touching, hot breath coating Peter’s face.

“I got you, baby. We’re going to be okay.”

Peter desperately wanted to believe that. Wanted to believe that this was all a nightmare. None of this was real. None of this was happening. He would wake up on his terrible bed at his ratty apartment, head over to make breakfast only to find Violet sprawled out on his lumpy couch wearing that awful hoody that used to be her Dad’s. Where did that hoody even go? The last time Peter saw it was when he and Violet had that drinking night at Jessica’s. How long ago was that? Two, three weeks? It felt like months since they were that carefree, that happy.

Someone cleared their throat. Peter naturally looked up. He really wished he hadn’t.

Brea stood before them. Naked, bloody, and proud as can be. Fresh trails of red ran down her body – her face miraculously free of it – staining the fabric of her white panties. The broken bottles still in her grasp, both glasses soaked with red and containing puffy pieces of what Peter foolishly thought to be melted gum to avoid identifying the actual substance. His trembling worsened.

Brea stared; eyes dead as can be. “Why are you scared?”

Peter’s jaw dropped, barely managing, “w-what?”

“Why are you scared?” Brea repeated, cocking her head the slightest bit.

“You’re hurting people,” Tony growled, earning Brea’s sharp gaze, “and you’re using Violet, his sister, to do it.”

“I’m not hurting people,” Brea responded, tone confused, “I’m hurting them.” She gestured towards the bar area, “and now I’m going to hurt Betty.”

“If you hurt Betty, you’re going to hurt Violet.” Tony persisted, shifting in place and pushing Peter slightly behind him. “Violet will be hurt by this, knowing you used her to hurt others-”

“She won’t remember this,” Brea interrupted, shaking her head. “She won’t remember anything after they put her to sleep.”

“Why?” Peter asked, curiosity momentarily winning over his panic. “Why won’t she remember?”

“She’s not here, I am,” Brea shrugged. “How can she remember something she didn’t see or hear?” She paused, biting her lip before continuing. “Though sometimes she dreams about bad stuff from things she did see. I have to wipe them away before she wakes up, or else she won’t let it go and by then it’ll be too late to get rid of it. I found that out the hard way.”

“What did she remember?”

“The junkyard,” Brea grumbled, _grumbled!_ Like an annoyed child talking about how they hated sharing with other kids. “That stupid junkyard where she and a few others escaped the shadow men. The evil men. She hid inside a car where the tree Alpha was hiding. He ordered me to make sure she got home. To protect her from bad guys. Afterwards he jumped out of the car to distract the shadows from hurting the gazelles, and then they chased him into the forest. Together we ran away and made it home.”

A thought occurred to Peter, resulting in him asking, “Brea, are HYDRA the shadow men?” Just as Tony mumbled, “tree Alpha?”

Brea shrugged, “what’s HYDRA?”

“Bad people,” Tony cut in, tone firm and angry.

Brea bit her lip, “could be? I don’t know for sure. Wade would probably know though. Are you still going to call him?”

Peter blinked, “if you go sit down, we will.”

Brea shrugged, “okay.”

Peter watched with wide eyes as she turned abruptly and practically catapulted her, Violet’s body, onto the couch face first. Peter looked back to Tony. Tony shook his head in disbelief. “Okay, when we get out of this, I’m calling a therapist. Maybe twelve just to be on the safe side.”

Peter shook his head. “No, you’re going to get that Doctor from before to check on your teammates she just annihilated, track down Wanda and ask her what in God’s name she was thinking keeping Brea a secret from everyone, maybe a few more things I can’t think of at the moment, and then calling her _twenty_ therapists who specialize in trauma.”

“I love the way you think,” Tony agreed, “now let’s buy our backup more time and figure out who this Wade guy is.”

_Violet_

_Dream land_

Everything was going so wrong. So, so wrong. The women joined together and raced through the halls, knocking out bad guys and searching everywhere for Groot. Violet kept her focus, even with all the chaotic mess surrounding them. Carol and Marie kept up with her fast, frenetic pace, helped her search and take down all opposition. They haven’t found him though. Everywhere they look they find empty, dusty storage bullshit. This place was a dump. Ill-used. Ill-fitting for what they could potentially be doing here. Something was wrong. Violet could feel it.

“What do these guys normally do?” Violet panted, searching wildly but keeping her mind level.

“Not sure,” Carol answered, “I’ve heard the guards talk about some strange stuff though. Auctioning. Experimentation.”

“Don’t forget body modification and weaponization.” Marie cut in, voice shaking.

“If that’s all true, then shouldn’t we have found something by now? I mean, we’re not underground. I can see the woods through the window right there.” Violet pointed to the right of her, biting her lip and pulling her hair in frustration. “I didn’t see any secret hatches. Did either of you?” They shook their heads. “Maybe they took him somewhere? Somewhere more private, closed off?”

“There’s an abandoned farmhouse not far from here,” Marie offered, “Carol and I come up here during the summers. Her grandparents used to own it before they sold it and retired in Florida. That’s how they caught us. We were checking the old place out when they grabbed us.”

Violet cocked an eyebrow, gesturing to the obvious party dress Carol was wearing. “Not really hiking attire.”

“We were heading to a party after looking at the house. It is, was, a few miles away towards the beach. I packed last minute and didn’t have a chance to pick a suitable dress for the occasion.” Carol answered coolly, smirking with an impressed glint all the while. “Good eye.”

Violet rolled hers in response, “why mention the farmhouse?”

“Because it’s deeper in the forest, more secluded, and next to a junkyard that hasn’t been in use for twenty years. If somethings going on in this forest, I’d bet whatever I have left on me that it’s happening there.”

“You’d be right,” came a dark, menacing growl from behind them. The three turned to look, each adopting a defensive stance. Brock Rumlow. He still looked dazed, but very much conscious, and incredibly angry. Violet flipped him off. He laughed. “I’m going to have fun with you.”

“High praise coming from a man I knocked out in the span of five seconds,” Violet quipped, backing away slightly, nonchalantly searching her surroundings without taking her eyes off him.

“Such a shame. Doc was impressed by your blood sample. Was real eager to get his hands on you. Looks like he’s going to miss out.” He lunged, face full of malice and ire. Violet ducked, rolling away and jumping into one of the rooms they just checked for Groot. Yelps and screams emanated behind her, heart aching at the sound but her mind stayed on task. Weapon. Must find a weapon. She saw lighter fluid. Maybe she could get it in his eyes again? Stun him long enough for the three to escape, find the rest, and head for the farmhouse? Not much else worth using. The shelves were bolted down, and everything else seemed to be just empty boxes.

Hands grabbed her shoulders. Time to move fast. She elbowed Rumlow in the ribs, turning swiftly to punch him sharply in the groin. He went tumbling back, wheezing from the impact of her punch. Violet grabbed the lighter fluid, took off the cap, and sprayed the man in the eyes. She had a brief thought about Matt, remembering the story of how he lost his eyesight as a child. She faltered, almost dropping the metal tin the liquid was encased in. No, this was different. Or was it? She wasn’t blinding an innocent child; she was potentially blinding a horrible abuser who gets off on pain. This isn’t the same.

Did it matter though? It’s still a violent act with the intent to hurt. This is self-defense, she knows that, but she didn’t want to be doing this. Shouldn’t have to do this at all. She hated it. Hated him for putting them both in this situation. She hoped she wouldn’t have to do this again.

So lost in her thoughts, Violet didn’t realize she had maneuvered past the man, who was screaming his lights out, and now stood in between both Carol and Marie once more. She dropped the metal tin, kicking it aside and away from them. Rumlow howled in agony, covering his eyes and stumbling through the doorway towards them. “Fucking bitch! I’ll fucking own you!”

“Not today,” Violet quipped, surprised at how cool her tone sounded.

“Not ever,” Carol followed, tone angry and enraged.

“Go to hell where you belong,” Marie finished, grabbing both Carol and Violet and pushing them away from the monster forcing his way towards them.

“Oh! I’ll go to Hell, but I’m taking one of you with me!” He began to lunge once more, hands reaching out blindly, searching for the women to grab.

Something happened right then that no one was previously aware of. There was a sharp sparking sound. A sound that would come from a ripped or broken electrical wire. Violet glanced up, rearing back as the wire kept sparking. Blue little flames started shooting out from it. One of them landed on Rumlow, and suddenly he was up in flames. From there it was just screaming. Screams, curses, and running. Lots of running. Violet didn’t look back. She knew she’d regret it. Didn’t take away the hurt though.

The three of them ran back the way they came. Molly was waiting outside for them. Frail and thin but ready as she’ll ever be. Together, the four raced off into the woods, many of their fellow victims following their lead only to get lost along the way.

Or so it would seem.

_Peter_

_Real Time_

Peter didn’t know what to make of this situation.

Brea was hard enough to wrap his head around without added insanity. Enter Wade, a gun toting Merc wearing a red and black mask with white bulging eyes that seemed strangely animated. Peter cocked his head in confusion. Before the call Brea was terrifying, dangerous, and erratic as Hell. Twirling around broken bottles like knives and smiling maniacally. It reminded him of Azula in the _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ tv show. Specifically, the part where she was completely losing it and ended up challenging Zuko to an Agni Kai. Now she was . . . pouting. Arms crossed in front of her chest (thank God) and sitting on the couch like a scolded child.

“Brea! You know better than to show up when Peter’s around! Violet’s going to be so embarrassed and incredibly worried if she wakes up and finds out! You go sit down on that couch like the good little fox I know you are, and Mama Bear will take care of all of this.”

“They hurt Violet!” Was Brea’s defense to Wade’s scolding. High pitched and whining.

“And what are you supposed to do when someone hurts Violet? Hmm?” Brea didn’t answer, looking away from the Stark Pad where Wade was currently displayed. His arms were crossed too, eyebrow dangerous cocked as he stared the girl down. “We’ve talked about this a dozen and more times babycakes. You should know the answer by now.”

This is when she crossed her arms. “Tell you so you can handle it.”

“That’s right,” Wade scolded once more. “Now let me take care of this while you focus on bringing Violet back before she remembers something that’ll give her another nightmare. Okay?”

This is where she started pouting. “Will you make me pancakes? Stomach feels really empty and it kind of hurts.”

“I’ll make you a dozen stacks of pancakes once I’m withing a ten-mile radius of you sweetie-pie. Now go ahead and bring Violet back, or at least go to sleep so we can take care of everything. Okay?”

“Okay,” Brea grumbled, closing her eyes, and relaxing her face.

Peter’s mouth dropped. Did that really just happen? He glanced at Tony, gauging his reaction. It was very much the same. Was that all they needed to do? Scold her like a parent and send her to her room? Peter really wanted Violet back. This shit is ridiculous and the only person he could think of that could handle this type of situation was Violet, and she was currently being used by the thing that was causing this situation. What a train wreck.

Peter’s head started to hurt.

“Alright, now that that’s out of the way,” Wade mumbled, rubbing his hands together through the video screen of the Stark Pad. “Hey Spiderman! Huge fan! Sorry about this whole situation. I know it looks crazy and feels even crazier, but rest assured this does not happen often.”

“What the fuck _is_ going on?” Frank entered the screen next to Wade, making Peter’s eyes bulge in disbelief. “What the fuck happened to my kid and how the fuck are you so okay with it?!”

“Frank?!” Peter squeaked, scrambling to catch up to everything that was suddenly happening. Doctor Strange, or so his nametag stated on his hospital coat, just zoomed into the room to the left of Peter, giving Brea a double take before snapping and sending the team following him towards the three Alphas splayed about on the floor.

“Hey kid, you doing alright?” Frank asked gruffly, rubbing a hand over the crown of his head. “Well, as alright as you can be, I suppose.”

“I’ll be okay once Violet’s back and I’m holding her hand through some much-needed therapy.” Peter responded quickly, shaking his head in frustration. “Frank, who is this guy?”

“This is Deadpool,” he nodded the black and red mask who effectively winked at Peter (“That’s me!”). “He’s a merc I tracked down for some business. Business I need to discuss with the Avengers.” He paused, letting that sink in. “Alone.”

Peter glared at the Alpha. “I don’t care what you need to discuss, and right now none of that is important-”

“Um, actually Peter.” Tony interrupted, stepping forward and grabbing hold of the Stark Pad. It was resting on the table during this whole interaction, but now it once again in Tony’s grasp. “I’m afraid this is rather important.”

“More important than helping Violet?” Peter returned with a fury.

“As has been stated, Violet is currently asleep and completely unaware of what’s going on, and it seems that Brea is starting to follow that same path.” Tony nodded to the couch. Brea was beginning to slump, muscles loosening and laying haphazardly. She looked like a rag doll whose dress was ripped off her. “At this point, it seems like there isn’t much we can do anymore.”

Peter glared at Tony. Tony stared back calmly, patiently. Peter couldn’t accept this. He wouldn’t accept this. His body was moving before he could stop it, but what he was about to do he’ll never know. Not even two steps forward a familiar voice called him to a halt. A voice he hasn’t heard in weeks. Hasn’t conversed or laughed with since the Halloween Party at the Omega house. Peter turned on his heel, and almost collapsed to the ground when he saw who the voice belonged too.

Pietro Maximoff.

He’s certainly looked better. Shadows under his eyes from lack of sleep. Clothes frumpy and wrinkled, like he’s been sleeping in them. His hair was the same though. Bleached white while his natural brown bleeding through. He looked tired. Worn out and drained beyond imagining. Has he been sleeping at all?

“Pietro,” Peter breathed, moving towards his friend, and enveloping him in a hug.

“Hey Pete,” he crushed him to his chest, squeezing impossibly tight. Peter didn’t mind. He squeezed back just as hard. He didn’t think he get to see him again. Why was he here?

“Why are you here? How are you here?” Peter pulled back to ask, gazing into his friend’s eyes. The blue was striking just as it was calm.

“Wanda asked for me, and Jarvis vouched for me, but even then I was still wondering the same thing.” He turned to look at the couch, expression dark and pondering, “and now I know why.”

Peter flinched. “Why? What’s going on?” He glanced at the couch, eyes widening in shock. “Pietro, do you know Brea?”

“I doubt anyone really knows Brea, but I’ve encountered her a few times.” He pulled Peter closer to the couch. When Brea’s slumped form came into view, Peter felt the man sigh in relief. “Good, the worst of it’s over.”

“It is?” Peter asked, eyebrows flying into his hair.

“It is,” Pietro nodded, giving Peter one last squeeze before releasing him and walking briskly towards Brea. “Was she wearing anything when she came out?”

“Yeah, she was wearing a shirt. She ripped it off to show me Violet’s scar.”

“Go grab it please, and a wet rag too. We’ll clean away the blood and move her once she’s fully gone.” Pietro ordered in a gentle tone. He dropped a bag Peter didn’t realize he was holding onto the ground next to the couch, sliding off a backpack Peter also missed and set it down next to it. He ripped off his jacket, straightened it out as best he could, and then kneeled before Brea’s drifting form. He lay the jacket over her body, covering her as much as the jacket would allow. Then he brushed her blue strands away from her face and smiled in relief.

“It’ll be okay,” Peter heard him whisper. “We’ll make it okay.”

Peter believed him.

As he moved towards the bar where the shirt was discarded, he noticed two things.

First, the three defeated Alphas, along with the medical team and Doctor Strange, were all gone. Disappeared in a flash. Peter looked wildly around the room, trying to make sense of how they could have come and gone so quickly. Were they that efficient, or has Peter’s brain officially cracked under the pressure of dealing with Brea? The second thing, Tony was gone. Poof! Gone with the wind and leaving them behind in the main room. As a matter of fact. The only ones left in here were Pietro, Peter, and who Peter hoped would soon be Violet.

“Shit,” he mumbled. What did Frank have to tell Tony? Why was it so important Tony had to leave for them to talk about it? Peter shook his head in frustrated defeat. He wasn’t going to figure it out standing around like an idiot, so with a deep breath, he headed towards the bar. Doing his best to ignore the blood puddles and broken objects where the bars lay previously. A scary thought suddenly occurred to him.

If Brea could take out the three of them with such ease, what else could she do? Could Violet do the same thing with the right motivation? Would Violet do those things?

Peter ignored his torturous mind and searched for her shirt.

_Violet_

_Dreamland_

The trip to the junkyard happened just as it did in Violet’s nightmare. The part that never changed remained the same. They ran together. Marie helping Molly stand and run due to her body giving out on her. Carol and Violet running ahead together as the best defense/offense. They made it to the junkyard. Carol and Marie hid inside a broken-down car with Molly, Violet ventured towards the red mustang while still searching furiously. She climbed into the front seat, fidgeting anxiously at the sound of incoming voices when–

“Violet.”

Violet turned towards the voice, surprised and amazed to see Groot hiding on the floor of the backseat. She gasped, immediately climbing over the seats and dropping onto him, unintentionally shaking the car as a result.

“Fucking finally,” she wheezed, anxious to get her arms around him. “Are you okay? Did they do anything to you?”

“Just carved something into my side, same as you.” Groot remarked, gently touching her wounded area, “they haven’t done anything else. At least, not yet.”

She reared back, “what do you-”

“It’s not important,” Groot interrupted, squeezing her tighter. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

“I told you I’d find you.” Violet reminded, resting her head on his chest.

“I know,” Groot sighed, holding her tight. “You don’t make a promise you can’t keep.”

“Damn right I don’t,” she breathed deep, gathering up what’s left of her courage, “we can’t stay here. They’ll find us.”

“No,” Groot shook his head, “they won’t find us, but they will find me.”

Violet froze. “What?”

“Violet,” Groot wheezed, “I can’t go with you.”

She pulled out of his grasp, moving up to stare at him. “What do you mean? Of course, you’re going with me.”

“I can’t,” Groot’s lip trembling, expression breaking. “I can’t run. Not anymore.”

Violet’s eyes widened, searching his body. “What happened?”

“I was able to slip them, ran out of that place and headed this way. I figured if I got their attention on me then you’d have more opportunity to get out. They couldn’t keep up with me, so they started shooting.”

Violet found it then. Right above his left knee was a makeshift tourniquet. Groot ripped the bottom of his shirt to make it. She could see the tear now. Inwardly she cursed, berating herself for not seeing it sooner. Outwardly she lowered back down to assess the damage. It was bad. Just lifting the bandage blood began pouring profusely. She gritted her teeth, ripping off her shirt and began tearing at it.

“Violet,” Groot spoke softly, trying to grasp her attention. She ignored it. The injury he sustained was bad. Really bad. She didn’t have tools, but she had a shirt. With that shirt she was going to do her best to stop the bleeding.

“Violet,” Groot tried again, firmer than before. Again, she ignored it. She wished she had a knife. Her teeth weren’t up to snuff to tear this thing into strips. She went to roll like cinnamon doe, and then wrap it to help stop the bleeding. That might do something.

Suddenly, Groot’s strong hand reached up and grabbed the back of her neck. Her eyes met his, shocked and confused.

“ **Violet** ,” he growled, tone deeper and more terrifying than Rumlow’s. It affected her in ways nothing ever has before. Her eyes widened. Holy shit. This was the Alpha tone. Groot was an Alpha? She always thought he was a Beta. How did she miss this? “ **Listen to me**.”

Violet wanted to listen. This was Groot, her best friend, her most trusted confidant behind Peter. She couldn’t though. She knew what he was about to do. If she were an Alpha, and the situations were reversed, she’d be doing to same thing. “I know what you’re fucking doing, and I won’t fucking allow it. Quit it with the Alpha tone bullshit and let me help you.”

“ **Violet** ,” he tried again, but Violet persisted. “No, Groot. I’m not fucking leaving you. I’ll die before I let those leeches take you and do . . .whatever it is they’re planning. Either we get out of here together, or we stay here together. If you can’t leave, then neither will I.”

“ **Vi­** -” “No!” Violet interrupted, positively seething. “I’m not leaving without you. I won’t-”

“ **Brea!** ” He suddenly shouted, tightening his grasp on Violet’s neck, pulling her in close and looking deep in her eyes. She kept trying to fight it, fight what he was trying to do. “ **Forget about me. Don’t come after me. Run away.** ” The words hit Violet harder than his previous attempts and for the life of her she didn’t know why. “ **Stay here until the sun rises. Don’t make a move, don’t make a sound until they’re gone. Once it’s safe, run like Hell. Run home, and don’t come back. Don’t come back for me. Forget about me. Understand? Don’t let her come back for me. Don’t let her remember me.** ” He paused, tears spilling onto his face. “ **Protect her. Protect Violet.** ”

Then nothing but darkness.

It was cold. Barren. She shivered in place, but she refused to warm herself. Groot needed help. She couldn’t leave him behind. Wouldn’t leave him behind.

“Leave who behind?” A voice spoke softly from behind her. Violet turned wildly, shifting into a defensive position. There before her was a red fox. Wagging its tail happily, teeth and jowls revealed, tongue hanging out with bits of drool skittering on the floor.

Violet relaxed. It’s just Brea, the happy little fox her Dad always wanted her to be. Looking out for Violet as always. Violet smiled, waving in relief. Maybe she’ll help her find Groot?

She didn’t, though Violet didn’t realize that at the time. Brea helped wipe away those tragic, painful memories once more. Just like she did a few other times when it became necessary. Violet protected everyone but herself, so it was Brea’s job to protect her. Just like the Tree Alpha wanted. **Protect Violet** , he had ordered, and Brea was more than prepared to do so.

However, in her need to wipe away the painful memories that would only cause Violet heartache, she missed one key facet of the memories Violet experienced. She wiped away Groot and all the horrible imaginings. She wiped away Carol, Marie, and Molly’s identities because they were so closely tied to what happened with Groot. She wiped away Rumlow and the tragic fire that left him forever marked. But she missed one thing.

She missed the vials. She missed the information from the labels. Missed the mysterious liquid in which they held. Missed where Violet hid the contents of the bag. She missed the significance of what those vials meant.

And she was going to regret it.

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Ftenor.com%2Fsearch%2Fpeter-parker-face-gifs&psig=AOvVaw2rsQftvBNrfR7fAcMrJ7Pu&ust=1590261494081000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCNDy4PaXyOkCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAD)

(I know, Peter. I know.)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=http%3A%2F%2Fru.fanpop.com%2Fclubs%2Fthe-avengers%2Fimages%2F38789877%2Ftitle%2Fpietro-maximoff-photo&psig=AOvVaw2IN7rbRQX0s1ctCeRPlU6w&ust=1590261565284000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCJD8zZ6YyOkCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAo)

(Look who's here :D)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fgfycat.com%2Ftalljealousfishingcat&psig=AOvVaw1qSidxy9irHW3EQl6a36K5&ust=1590261228155000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCPCxlfOWyOkCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAh)

(Violet flipping off Rumlow :D:D:D)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericasass-romanoff.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F188574278892%2Fpainkillers-steve-x-reader-imagine&psig=AOvVaw0u7vkQHtzzDZvs4N60zbuH&ust=1590261977186000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCPDo_d2ZyOkCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAM)

(Preview for the next chapter. I wonder what will happen ;D)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify and ensure we're all on the same page. 
> 
> Groot is the reason Brea is able to take over Violet's body. His Alpha tone wasn't working on Violet, so he appealed to Brea. Not because she was a separate personality (his Alpha tone is what brought it out and made it official) but because he was appealing to girl he grew up with before her Dad died and she moved away with Billy. Remember, Brea is the name Violet was born with, he was merely using her original name to make her listen so he could protect her. By doing this, pairing with Violet's tendency to revert back to a childish state of mind after nightmares and technically being a twin with "evolved" DNA from being the child of two Alpha men, the Brea who just took down the Black Widow and company was officially born. 
> 
> The reason why Brea was able to take down Natasha so quickly was a combination of things. First, Wade trained Brea how to fight and incapacitate an opponent during the time she was in control and Violet was completely out of it. Second, Natasha didn't expect nor anticipate Brea having the ability to do what she did, thus was off guard and severely unprepared. Third, and this is the same problem both Bucky and Steve faced, she's too quick. Fourth, another problem the three Alphas faced, they didn't want to hurt her because doing so would hurt Violet which led to them holding back and inevitably led to their defeat.
> 
> I think those are the major points where I think people might get a little confused, but if there's anything else in here that needs clarification please let me know in comments :D. Otherwise, what did you guys think? Did anyone guess that Carol and Marie were the two women escaping with Violet in the junkyard? Molly is Molly Hernandez. She is a Marvel character, one that's relatively new. She belongs to the TV Series, "The Runaways", and is kind of a badass in my opinion :D. Not sure if we'll see her again, but we might see the other two ;). Maybe look into those mysterious vials and see what comes about? Never know with my story. 
> 
> Again, I really hope you guys enjoyed it! There's another chapter due to come soon! My hope is I'll get it finished before the weekend is out. You are all so amazing! THANK YOU AGAIN!!!


	21. Lovely: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT! SMUT!! SMUT!!! (sort of) you have been warned! 
> 
> This was supposed to be a longer chapter but the second part of it wasn't clicking for me so I decided to cut the chapter short and reconfigure the latter part into it's own chapter. This is kind of a brief departure from the main story, and ultimately serves more as an experiment of "can I do a smut chapter?" If it's not up to snuff, please let me know and I'll do better. I promise! 
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with me so far! I hope everyone is doing great! Stay safe out there and enjoy the chapter! :D

Chapter 20

Lovely: Part 1

_Steve_

_Memory? Or a dream?_

It was just another mission. Another goon that needed to be handled. Another one and done before heading back to the tower and setting out on another mission. It was just another day in the life of the Avengers.

Until it wasn’t.

What was thought to be a simple assassination turned into so much more with the emergence of news that put a hold on everything. The man was affiliated with more than just HYDRA but buried so deep in other connections it was impossible to simply kill him. They needed to know more.

Now they had to wait for backup.

Steve was unhappy to say the least, but not as much as he should be. To be honest, he was happy for the excuse to stay away from the tower, specifically New York. This weekend Darcy, his unofficial chosen, would be making an appearance after her six month “vacation” in Bora Bora, an adventure Steve was more than supportive of. It would be nice to see her again, but her personality was type Steve had trouble handling in long spurts. She’s loud and bombastic while he was more reserved and self-assured. Polar opposites they were, but that’s how they worked.

Still, he’d rather stay and deal with this, especially since Bucky was here with him.

Bucky certainly didn’t like the turn of events, and Steve completely understood. HYDRA tortured him, raped him, maimed him, and molded him into the ultimate weapon. He had every right to do the same to those who dare put their hands on him. Steve could see Bucky shake with anger since they received the news. It was two hours later, and the shaking hasn’t stopped.

It was nighttime. The stars shown brightly in the sky. Firelights from buildings glittered and gleamed down below. The air was boiling, leaving the two soldiers sweating from their shrouded perches on the balcony connected to their small, rundown room. There were no windows, no doors except for the entrance, and no fans to keep the heat at bay. In spite of the heat, Bucky wore his signature black ensemble of jeans and Henley shirts with his leather jacket slung over a nearby chair. Meanwhile, Steve wore a loose-fitting white button up and khaki pants that fit him just right. Bucky had his hair tied back for once. Sweat droplets sliding down from his scalp down the side of his neck. Steve was much the same. Even with the light shirt, the sweat poured out of him, causing the shirt to stick to his torso in salacious ways.

Currently the two were sitting next to one another, watching and studying the city of Cartagena with disinterest. There was nothing to be done tonight. The mission was on hold, the target was already done with his night, and the two soldiers had no interest in joining the local festivities. Steve thought about turning in, running through the ways in which he might be able to get some sleep amid the dangerous heat when he noticed something he probably shouldn’t have. 

The bulge in Bucky’s pants.

Steve’s eyes widened at the sight of it, and a sudden urge rolled through him before he could stop it. Starting with his heart and ending with his dick. It’s been a long time since Steve’s pleasured himself. Even longer since he’s found pleasure with another. Bucky was still clearly angry, but maybe some of the anger would ease with a “distraction” of sorts? Would Bucky go for it though? They’ve known each other for a long time. Slept in the same room since Steve was 10 and Bucky was 11 until Natasha and the Avengers came into the picture. Discovered their sexual awakenings around the same time. Helped each other with some of their “problems” with a helping hand. It wouldn’t be too off the wall. Right?

“You going to keep staring, or are you going to do something about it?” Bucky spoke suddenly. Voice filled with the rage that seemed to consume him. Tone sharp and unforgiving like broken glass. Steve flinched, staring at Bucky in surprise. Bucky didn’t return to look, opting to keep his gaze on the flickering lights from the city in front of them.

Steve wasn’t sure what came over him, or why the sudden boldness appeared, but just quickly he stated, “do you want me to do something about it?”

He hadn’t expected a response. If he did, it wasn’t what he received.

“Not in the way you’d want it to be.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “What way would I want it to be?”

Bucky scoffed. “Gentle, sweet, slow and steady. Markers for a virgin.”

“I ain’t a virgin, Buck. You know that.” Bucky made sure of that with two packs of beer and a couple of cheerleaders up for anything.

“I remember,” Bucky smirked, following Steve’s line of thinking, “but you’ve never been with a man though. Right?”

Steve nodded, wondering where this was going.

Bucky nodded too. “Yeah, I thought so.”

“Where are you going with this?” Steve leaned forward, turning slightly to face Bucky. “What do you need?”

Finally, Bucky met his eyes. The blue in them cold and unyielding. Shivers ran down his spine just as his dick throbbed with pleasure. Steve fought the urge to adjust, unable to contain the shift of his hips to alleviate the pressure from his khakis. Bucky’s gaze shifted to his dick, zeroing in on the growing bulge. He let out a growl, encouraging Steve’s member instead of ebbing it.

“I need . . .” he paused, releasing another growl, “I need to give.”

“Give?” Steve questioned, confusing taking hold. “Give what?”

Bucky stood up suddenly, turning away from Steve and placing his hands on the balcony. “I’m too angry,” he growled. “If I, if we do anything, I’ll end up being too rough. End up hurting you. I won’t let that happen.”

“Buck,” Steve stood, walking slowly towards his friend, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “We don’t need to have sex. We can do other stuff if you need it. I mean c’mon, we used to jack each other off to see who’d make the other cum faster.”

“It’s not the same.” Bucky cut Steve off in a furious tone. “If we do anything it’s not going to be a contest, it’ll be more. It’ll be . . . better.”

“Then tell me what you want,” Steve insisted, squeezing Bucky’s shoulder lightly, “tell me what to do.”

Neither of them moved for a few seconds. Hard stares, throbbing boners, and endless possibilities. Where would this night lead them?

“If we’re going to do this, I need to make my intentions very clear.” Bucky turned to face him, moving closer until he was inches away, blue eyes sparking with erotic intensity. “What we’re going to do isn’t what you’re used to. It might scare you, make you think differently of me, but know this is what I need. I’m out of balance, Natasha isn’t here to make it right, so I need you to help me.”

Steve nodded, cock twitching in his pants. “What’s your plan?”

“We’re not going to have sex,” Bucky stated bluntly, “and whatever I say goes tonight. No talking back, no quips, no speaking at all. Under normal circumstances I can deal with bratty behavior, but not tonight. Tonight, I need-” Bucky didn’t finish, but Steve guessed where he was going with it.

“Submission,” Steve concluded, understanding where Bucky was leading them.

Bucky’s stare intensified, “can you do that? Will you do that?”

In spite of the childish thought, _I’m not a brat_ , zooming through his mind, Steve nodded assuredly. “I’d do anything for you Buck.”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth quirked. “Same goes for me.” His human hand reached up, brushing away beads of sweat trailing down the side of Steve’s face. “We’ll be the death of each other.”

“Til the end of the line,” Steve smirked, leaning into Bucky’s hand.

The corner lifted a touch more. “You’re not getting my cock. With the state I’m in I’ll use it to spear you until you’re a bloody, crying mess. I won’t do that to you. Can’t put you through that. I can do other things though. If you’re up for it, that is.”

Steve felt his cock harden even more, surprised by his reaction to the change in Bucky. He was enjoying this, just as much as Bucky seemed to be enjoying it. The anger the man had been consumed with all day was slowly dissipating. Melting away the more he kept talking.

“With what I’m going to do you’re not going to be able to talk. If at any point you need me to stop or take a break, I want you to snap.” Bucky pulled away his human hand, snapping his fingers as an example. “When I check in with you that’s how I want you to answer me. Okay? One snap for yes, two snaps for slow down to give you a minute, and three snaps when you’ve had enough. Understand?”

Steve nodded, snapping his fingers and repeating the commands.

“Good boy,” Bucky’s praise made Steve’s dick hurt with how hard it trying to escape his pants. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Anything for you, Buck. Anything.”

For a second, so short yet so long, they stood there. Staring deep into the other’s eyes. Feeling closer and more intimate than ever before. It was strange. Exciting. Titillating in ways Steve never imagined. Why didn’t it always feel like this?

Bucky leaned in, noses touching, their lips almost there. “Go stand at the edge of the bed and wait for my next instruction.”

Shaky with sudden reluctance and jittery with prolonged excitement, Steve immediately heeded Bucky’s command. Turning away and walking towards the bed in the sauna-like room connected to the balcony. He faced the bed, standing a foot from the edge of it. He didn’t look back; afraid it would be the wrong thing to do. He felt his head bow, gripping his hands behind his back, and was surprised by how right the positioning felt. Well, not quite right. He felt his knees begin to buckle instinctually, but he remained standing. Bucky told him to stand at the edge of the bed, not kneel. The distinction felt important. Why it felt important Steve didn’t know. He just knew it was.

For a few minutes he stood there, waiting in deafening silence for Bucky to come and deliver his next command. Waiting in the boiling heat with eager anticipation and meager apprehension. Waiting to see, to experience what would happen next. What was Bucky going to do? What his real plan? Why wouldn’t Steve be able to talk if Bucky’s cock wasn’t going to be in play?

“Don’t move,” Bucky spoke softly, causing Steve to nearly jump out of his skin with the sudden noise. Despite that, he did his best to heed Bucky’s command, though it became significantly harder when hands suddenly grasped his shoulders. His head remained bent, hands still grasping the other behind his back. Bucky grunted softly. A sound of approval.

“A natural. Just like I expected.”

Steve bit his lips, stopping his retort in its tracks. Bucky said no talking. His hands suddenly moved from Steve’s shoulders down his front, brushing the buttons of his soaked shirt before suddenly pulling at them. Buttons went flying, falling with muted clatters to the ground. Steve focused on breathing, keeping still and not making a sound. Bucky pulled at Steve’s shirt, forcing Steve to unclasp his hands so he could remove the offending garment. Before the shirt landed on the ground, Steve felt Bucky grab his wrists with surprising harshness. He adjusted his arms behind his back, arranging them so that Steve was gripping his elbows while his forearms lay on top of each other.

“There we go, keep ‘em like that.” Bucky kissed his shoulder, and Steve smiled.

Then Bucky’s hands went straight for Steve’s belt, and Steve’s mind went hazy.

Bucky’s hands moved nimbly, unbuckling, and pulling the belt from its loops within seconds. Unbuttoning and unzipping took even less time. Then his pants and white boxers were at his ankles leaving Steve breathless and hot. Bucky nudged at each foot until lifted them, pulling the fabric harshly and throwing them across the room.

And then Steve stood there, naked and bare as the day he was born, aroused and anxious as his best friend abruptly grabbed his hair and pulled him back. Hard. Bucky had him lean against him, wrapping his metal arm around his waist to keep him in place. The tent in Bucky’s pants rubbing into the crook of Steve’s ass. He kissed Steve’s shoulder again, nipped it gently.

“If was in a better mood, this would be the part I’d whisper reassurances. Tell you how good you’re doing. Tell you how soft and pliant you feel beneath my hands. Tell you so many things while pushing you down to the bed with this hand,” he pulled at Steve’s hair, earning a soft moan for the action, “and feeling up your ass with the other one.” He squeezed at Steve’s waist, making gasp. His eyes drooped, imagining the scenario. “I’d feel your ass up, spread your legs and spread your cheeks, take a look at your virgin hole and do all sorts of things with it.” Bucky nipped at Steve’s shoulder again, his flesh hand leaving Steve’s hair. “Maybe some night I will, but not tonight.”

Bucky turned him suddenly, and before Steve could catch on, his metal hand gripped his throat tightly, cutting off his air supply. Instinctually Steve tried to fight back, but once again he managed to reign himself in. Kept his hands behind his back, kept his complaints to himself, kept his focus on Bucky. In response, Bucky gripped tighter, his gaze cold. “Tonight’s not going to be easy, Steve. You need to know that. Remember the snaps. One for keep going. Two for slow down. Three for stopping entirely, okay?”

Steve snapped, finding it impossible to nod in this position. Besides, Bucky wanted him to snap. Who was he to say no to his friend’s commands?

He barely caught Bucky’s expression into smile when suddenly his lips were on his. The metal hand loosened its hold, and Steve gasped in a mouthful of air before wrestling with Bucky’s hot, expert tongue. Steve couldn’t stop the moans even if he tried. The kiss was everything he wanted and never knew he needed. It was commanding, demanding, and packed more of a punch than he was used to. He fought to keep up with Bucky’s pace, tangled with his tongue as Bucky’s clothed chest touched his own. He yelped when his flesh hand clawed at his ass, earning a dark laugh form Bucky.

“Damn shame,” he squeezed before slapping Steve’s ass, “that ass is a gift from the Gods. Made for playing, made for spanking, made for fucking.” He leaned back in, biting Steve’s lip harshly, leaving him gasping. “Good boy. Now get on the bed. Lay down on your back and rest your hands on either side of your head.”

Steve moved quickly, eager to follow Bucky’s command, eager to please him. The bed creaked under his weight, springs screeching and moaning from the sudden disturbance. The blanket stuck to his sweat soaked skin but paid it no mind. He splayed out on his back, legs spreading wide, feet hitting the floor on either side of the bed due to its low height. Then he was still. So still. Watching Bucky gaze darkly at him with a mirthful look. Cock throbbing painfully on his abs. Aching for relief.

Bucky didn’t move at first, choosing to watch Steve on the bed. Steve wondered what he was waiting for. What he could be looking for. A mistake? Testing and measuring Steve’s resolve? Steve took a breath. Bucky wanted submission, complete obedience. Steve was going to give it to him. He deserved it a thousand times over after everything he’s been put through. When Bucky did start moving, he made no sound with each slow, purposeful step. He leaned down to pick something up off the floor, Steve’s discarded belt, and walked over to their bags at the corner of the room.

“Face the ceiling,” he commanded abruptly, “close your eyes, and don’t move until I say so.”

Steve quickly responded to Bucky, briefly staring at the ceiling before shutting his eyes and willing his body to remain as still as possible. What was Bucky planning? He made it clear they weren’t going to have sex. Made it clear that Bucky’s cock wouldn’t come into play tonight, so what was he going to do? What was he thinking about? Steve imagined possibilities, but he knew they were too vanilla for Bucky’s edgier disposition and all of them ended with sex. He strained his ears for any sounds, any movement from Bucky, but all he could hear was the sound of merriment occurring from the city and the wind fluttering from the balcony.

Fingers suddenly grasped his chin, earning a flinch that made Steve curse inwardly. A dark chuckle. Soft and menacing. One of the things, most likely his thumb, brushed Steve’s bottom lip. Pulling it down slightly before releasing it and letting it plop back into place. Steve shivered with pleasure.

His hands left his face only to grab hold of his wrists. Pulling them back until they were in between the bars on the bedframe. Funny. Steve didn’t remember them being there before. He wrapped something around his wrist. With a jolt, Steve realized it was his belt. Bucky was tying him the metal bed frame with his own belt. His cock twitched with more arousal. Bits of pre-cum leaking from his aching manhood.

Within seconds both hands were secure to the bars, tight and immovable. Bucky’s fingers trailed down Steve’s arms with a feather light touch. They returned to his face, flesh hand caressing his cheek while the metal hand tapped his lips.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered, voice gruff and full of desire.

Steve complied, cock practically jumping to attention, opening as much as his jaw would allow.

He expected fingers, or at least something smooth and easy to suck. He didn’t think it was a ball gag or anything like that. If Bucky had brought any toys it would have been handcuffs which he would have used on Steve instead of the belt. He was utilizing what they had available to them. What could it be? What would Bucky use? Anything he was expecting went flying out the window when he felt the rough, congested texture of the object shoved into his mouth. He let out a noise of complaint as it was shoved deeper, heart jumping and cock twitching at how muffled his complaint was.

“It’s rolled up socks,” Bucky answered Steve’s unspoken inquiry, “don’t worry, they’re clean.”

The next sound Steve heard was loud, sharp, and very distinguishable. The sound of duct tape unrolling, then ripping. Two seconds he felt the tape on his cheeks, trapping the socks, and the pressure of Bucky’s fingers smoothing it out.

“There, now you’ll be all nice quiet for what I’m going to do next. Make sure to keep those pretty blue eyes closed until I tell you.”

Steve breathed deeply. Waiting for the next move. Skin prickling with unease not knowing what’s to happen, cock throbbing impossibly more for the same reason. The bed creaked. The feel of Bucky’s clothed thighs settled between Steve’s. Hands reached down to Steve’s knees and pushed, spreading Steve’s legs apart even more. They ran up slowly, taking their time to feel the soft skin on the inside of his thighs, stopping on either side of his cock making it twitch again. Steve was so close to cumming he was shaking.

Hot breath hit his cock, hands pressed down on Steve’s hips, and Bucky’s mouth was on his balls. Licking, nipping, and sucking passionately. Steve groaned, hands pulling at the belt restraining him, lower half of his body tensing and moving of its own accord. Bucky kept him in place with a steely grip, chuckling as he continued his good work.

“Don’t worry Stevie, it’ll only get worse from here.”

Steve groaned in complaint, unable to ignore the sheer arousal coursing through his system. More bits of pre-cum dribbled onto his abs, making him moan even more. He was so close. He wished Bucky would touch him there. Take it into his mouth and suck him dry, just like he was doing with his balls.

There was a squelching _pop_ , along with more creaking on the bed. Bucky pulled away from Steve’s balls, and was hovering over Steve. A tongue flicked out and began licking Steve’s abs. Licking up the pre-cum. Steve moaned louder, but the sound was still severely muted.

“You ready, doll?” Bucky chuckled. “You ready for me?”

Steve nodded eagerly, moaning through the gag as Bucky’s hands tightened on his hips.

Then there was a wet heat encasing his cock, and Steve screamed through the gag. It felt good. So good. Steve drove the back of his head deep into the mattress, losing himself in the wonderful feeling Bucky was giving him. Everything was great. So great. None of this felt wrong or even remotely bad, so what was Bucky talking about when he said it would get worse. In Steve’s mind this felt utterly amazing.

Then he started to realize something. He’s never had a blowjob in his life, but he knows what a mouth should feel like. There should be teeth, even the slightest scrape to warn of their presence. The tongue, knowing Bucky and his sexual adventures with Natasha, should be moving, and doing wild things to his dick right now. Most important, with how deep the wet heat has taken him, there should be some resistance from the back of the throat. Gagging. Moans vibrating through the heat. Also, Bucky’s hands had disappeared, but there was still a weight holding Steve at his hips. Something was wrong here.

This isn’t right.

A sharp, girlish cackle sounded above Steve just as Bucky ordered, “Open your eyes.”

Reluctantly, Steve did so.

What he expected, and desperately wished to see, was Bucky hovering above him with Steve’s dick in his ass. What he got was not what he wanted. Not even close. What he got was a monstrosity straddling his legs. A twisted, misshapen creature covered in patchy fur that was matted his blood. Hands were claws, sharp and lethal. A wicked, cruel smile that was all teeth. Sharp and just as dangerous as the claws. If Steve wasn’t mistaken, the creature appeared to be a deranged fox/human hybrid of some sort. It cackled as Steve took in the sight of him, laughing gleefully as Steve’s eyes widened in horror.

The fox’s eyes were Magenta, and his dick was inside–

“Time to play puppy,” Brea screeched, rearing back her head maniacally, before lunging down, teeth bared, toward Steve’s throat.

~~~

Steve woke with a start. Gasping and shooting up to a sitting position. Eyes running wild, taking in the new scenery with a frantic rage. He was in a bright, open room. His room. His room in Loki’s palace. His bright, open room filled with greys and light blues yet empty as can be. Apart from the luggage shoved away in the corner, a mirror in another corner, and an easel with his box of paints and brushes laying beneath it near the window, there wasn’t much in here to call his own. He wasn’t in Cartagena, he was in Asgard. Brea, that thing, wasn’t here. He is okay. He is safe.

He sighed in relief, wiping his face, and leaning back in the bed as carefully as he could. His body ached, particularly his throat. His head wasn’t much better, but his throat really hurt. Brea really gave it to him, to the three of them. Beating Natasha in a flash and knocking her out cold. Punching Steve like that in the throat before knocking him senseless. Stabbing Bucky–

Oh God! Bucky!

Steve shot back up, throwing the comforter off him, and quickly standing up. The world spun for a moment, forcing him to lean against the wall to catch his breath, but eventually he pushed on and stumbled over to his luggage. He was only wearing his boxers. Makes sense considering he was more than likely covered in blood after their surprising tussle with Brea. Bucky’s blood. Brea stabbed him in the neck with one of the broken bottles, catching the pair of super soldiers completely off guard. He had to get to him. He needed to check on him, make sure he was still alive.

How the fuck was she able to do all that?

Steve didn’t take the time to choose an immaculate outfit Natasha wouldn’t cringe at. He grabbed the first things he saw on his topmost suitcase. A long-sleeved light blue shirt he normally works out in, and navy blue work out pants. That’ll work. He dressed quickly and, ignoring the spinning world around him, pushed through his door and made way to find Bucky.

It didn’t take long. His room wasn’t far from his brother’s. They liked to stay close to one another, but really, it’s because of the nightmares. Not just for Bucky, but for Steve too. Sometimes things get bad. They get lost in a memory they can’t control, turn violent and storm about in a rage while completely unaware of what they’re doing. Steve and Bucky are the only ones that can hold the other down when it gets that bad. Natasha mostly has Buck’s nightmares under control, but sometimes Steve was still needed. They both come for Steve when he has an episode, though it was mostly Bucky who handled it.

He couldn’t help but feel like that was happening now, but he ignored it. Nightmare or not, he needed to check on Bucky. Needed to see him and Natasha for himself. He needed to know that everything was okay now.

Deep down, so deep he could barely admit it to himself, he needed to see Violet. Needed to see the stars in her indigo sky. Needed to see her cynical and inquisitive gaze. Needed to hear her voice rip them a new one or make a sarcastic comment. He needed to feel her in his arms. He needed her, and he needed to know that Brea’s gone. That animalistic monstrosity is gone, and the fighting angel has returned. He needed to know that more than anything.

But at what cost?

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Fpin%2F438397344960505990%2F&psig=AOvVaw2spoHgxvQrQ5Cf1OQZ4FPZ&ust=1590870749167000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCNiEl9X12ekCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAE)

(The pic that helped inspire this lol)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fweheartit.com%2Fentry%2F198607929&psig=AOvVaw0MRpuwh5tfD0MnBvKBSSpg&ust=1590871017062000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCODtq8T22ekCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAf)

(Preview for the next chapter)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.quora.com%2FWhy-was-Tony-Stark-so-disrespectful-to-Doctor-Strange-calling-him-a-street-magician-and-such&psig=AOvVaw0oReNDKqee7xySzOHSnZrT&ust=1590871848736000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCNC80OP52ekCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAc)

(And another preview ;))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably reiterate I'm not used to writing smut so if this chapter really sucks I'm so sorry XD. I'll do better! I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up but hopefully it won't be a stupendous wait before I'm able to get it posted. Next chapter I'm planning on having a little more SMUT, but you might not like who it involves . . . care to make any guesses? I'll give you a hint, the next chapter is from Peter's point of view ;). Also, Pietro confronts Wanda :D.


	22. Lovely: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Checking in with multiple parties in the aftermath of Brea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For starters.
> 
> Special shout out to TellMeNoAgain for helping me with this chapter. I never would have finished it without her! You guys should check out her works! They're awesome and so fun to read!
> 
> Next thing, this chapter is super long! I just looked at my word count and noticed it was over 11,000 words. Like, what?! Holy crap! lol It might be a little rough around the edge grammar wise, but I'm happy with it :D.
> 
> Also, there is a little bit of non con in this chapter, but it doesn't go too far. 
> 
> And as always, thank you so much for reading my story. It means the world to me! Thank you for sticking with me though I haven't been updating as much as I used to. I hope you're all doing great and staying safe during these troubling times. Thank you again. Please enjoy the chapter :D.

Chapter 21

Lovely: Part 2

_Peter_

_Evening_

It’s been hours. Hours since Brea’s rampage. Hours since Tony disappeared. Hours since the Doctors took away the Alphas. Hours since Pietro arrived. Hours since Peter felt like things were going to be okay.

He had no idea what he was supposed to be doing.

Ever since Pietro arrived, Peter has been in a daze he couldn’t quite escape. A daze that made him feel like a ghost among his company even though he conversed with them normally. On the outside he was a blubbering, stuttering mess overcome with tears and falling to the floor due to the overwhelming inner turmoil. On the inside he felt . . . not dead per se, but like he wasn’t really there. His body was highly active in their reactions and the motions it made, but his heart, mind, and even soul was not part of the equation.

He was lost.

This wasn’t the first time it happened. Ever since he met Violet, whenever bad things happened, he always had her at his side to help him handle them, otherwise he’d fall into this lost and disconnected state. Most of the time she played the role of backup, offered support and good advice while he dealt with such problems. Whenever they turned physical, she handled them within a snap, quick and precise without getting too roughed up. For the most part anyway. Just like the time the drunk alpha started hitting on Peter and making sexual advancements, she took the alpha down then quickly took Peter home before he could even blink. It was the same with problems she deemed too big for him to handle by himself. Problems like midterms/finals week where Peter was too stressed out to deal with anything or make a sound decision. Evidenced when he tried to water plants with tomato soup and mistook a vial of chemicals for his glass of water.

Violet always took care of him. Handled the worst, and hardest, of problems without a single complaint. An Angel sent down to guard the humans of earth from demonic forces who aim to taint and claim them for their own. She’s so strong, unbreakable in ways Peter both envied and admired. Envied because he desperately wished he could possess such inner strength. Admired for precisely the same reason.

Violet’s always defended him. Protected him when he couldn’t do so himself. It’s not just with him, it’s also with countless Omegas. Wanda and Pietro might have provided the facility lodgings, and 24 hours care for the survivors at the Omega house, but it was Violet they looked to. That wasn’t anything against Wanda or Pietro. They both worked their hardest to provide the survivors safety and comfort amid the terrible danger they were in. Violet’s just different. Captivating. When she speaks, people listen. When she does something, they notice. It’s just part of how she is.

Violet was always there. Whether in the background keeping watch or at the forefront fighting with everything she had. Violet was always there.

And then she wasn’t.

Peter tried not to think of it like that, but he couldn’t deny what he saw. Physically, his sister was right there, but she wasn’t in control. Brea, this amalgamation Peter’s never encountered and knew nothing of, was in control of his sister’s body. Used his sister to hurt and maim people with the full intention of killing someone. Peter didn’t care about protecting Betty. His former mentor finally showed her true colors and Peter felt ashamed he never saw them before. How many hours did he spend with her, working with her and getting to know her, coming to respect and admire her only to find out that it was all a lie. He was ashamed, overcome with the realization of how blind he was, but none of that mattered. He didn’t care about protecting her.

He cared about protecting Violet.

All the times she looked out for him. All the times she looked out for countless others. All the times she’s been the selfless, wonderful person she is, and still has to fight against all these terrible situations. Fighting off Alphas who hurt Omegas. Working three jobs - with only one being official- only to give most of her earnings to those she deemed need it more. Getting shot by a madman and then kidnapped because Peter went into heat. Going out of her way to protect Darcy and Betty by sneaking Peter into the control room of the tower, urging him to allow the Avengers inside because they were Darcy and Betty’s best chance. Putting her life on the line to find out what the invaders were planning while suffering from a drug induced heat caused by Darcy’s complete and utter selfishness and disregard for Violet’s wellbeing. Saving Peter from Tony’s rut, protecting him from the Winter Soldier’s rage, and sparing Tony because Peter pleaded with her to.

If Violet were a Goddess, and to Peter she certainly was, she’d be the Goddess of Protection and Goodness while wielding a shield made of light. Drawing power from the sun and the stars, she’d be a warrior even the Gods Ares and Zeus wouldn’t dare mess with. The ultimate protector for those who couldn’t protect themselves. Battle worn, covered in earth, bloodied, and bruised beyond imagining. Gold would burn in those sky-blue eyes, and a smile would remain on her face. Eyes intimidating even the bravest of souls while that smile would dare them to try and take her on. She’s the best person Peter would ever know.

And he has no idea how to protect her in return, especially now after Brea made herself known.

After Brea went to sleep and Tony disappeared with Wade and Frank on the line, Pietro pulled Violet’s sleeping form into his arms and followed Peter as he led the way to Wanda and Jarvis’s room. Neither were pleased to find the pair making out on the edge of the bed, Pietro in particularly let out a grated, “are you fucking kidding me?!” Before slipping past Peter, glaring at the now bashful couple abruptly standing from their comfortable positions and placing Violet on the bed behind them, gently resting her head on the pillows before pointing to Peter, and giving out orders.

“Get some rags, wet them down.” He stated bluntly before turning his attention to Jarvis, “Grab a first aid kit and some aspirin, her head’s gonna kill her when she wakes up.” Then he turned his attention to Wanda, adjusting his jacket on Violet to ensure she stayed covered before turning back to Wanda. “Go grab some clothes for her, this Henley is too big and smells of Alpha.”

Wanda nodded sharply, mouth opening and closing in fast succession, eyes wide as she took in the sight of her brother. Jarvis patted her shoulder, smiling kindly, “I told you he’d come.”

Peter’s heart melted at her answering smile, looking up at the Alpha with warm, teary eyes. She took a breath, nodding slightly before grabbing and squeezing his hand. “Thank you, Edwin.”

“Anything for you, my dear.” He replied softly, leaning in and kissing her hair before pulling away and heading towards the bathroom. “In there, Mr. Parker. I shall help you with those rags if you don’t mind grabbing the first aid kit. My knees are not what they used to be and tend to lock in certain positions.” Jarvis asked as he waved Peter towards their destination.

Peter didn’t move though. Didn’t respond. He wasn’t even looking at Jarvis anymore. His eyes were on Violet, his sister’s slumbering form. Tears pricked his eyes, chin trembling at the sight of her. From the corner of his eye, Pietro’s hand waved Jarvis onward, mumbling something Peter couldn’t quite catch as he followed Jarvis to the bathroom. A moment later a warm hand gently grasped his shoulder, and Wanda whispered in his ear with her calm signature calming tone, “Violet’s going to be okay. I’m not sure what happened here, but she’s going to be okay. She always pulls through, Peter. Always. Remember that.” A light squeeze, and then her hand left him.

For a solid moment, it was just Violet and Peter. Peter quaking and shivering like he was standing outside in the Norwegian winter instead of Wanda and Jarvis’ surprisingly warm bedroom. Violet resting comfortably beneath Pietro’s leather jacket, face lax and carefree. No stresses or worries, just the neutral expression of soundless sleep. Such a contrast to the wild antics Brea enacted. So different from the Violet he knew. Peter couldn’t help but wonder what he would get when she opened her eyes. Would they be dead and cold with Brea’s child-like, unblinking stare? Would they be cynical yet mischievous with Violet’s fierce and determined gaze?

Peter didn’t know, and that scared him more than anything.

“Brea won’t wake back up,” Pietro suddenly stated, pulling Peter away from his thoughts. Pietro walked back into the room, first aid kit in hand. Peter noticed Jarvis in the background wetting multiple rags in the sink. Heart pinging at the sight of it. He was supposed to do that. Why didn’t he? Pietro walked around the bed and set down the kit on the bedside table. “First time I met her she was in an alley beating the shit out of a dealer who tried stabbing her. Apparently, she grabbed hold of his product, threw it in a trash can, and then set it on fire. Not out of the ordinary when it comes to Violet, but that time it was different. The dealer’s face was bashed in, struggling to breathe while pleading with her to spare him. Brea laughed at him, and that’s when I knew something was terribly wrong.”

Pietro opened the kit, rifling through it for something. What that something was Peter didn’t know? Pietro continued without pause. “It happened a couple weeks after she left the hospital. We told you that we took her to the Omega house to help her heal, but really she ran off with some guy in a mask wearing a red and black Kevlar suit. Wanda, Matt, Sam, and I scoured the streets looking for her. Asking everyone we could trust, going undercover in the shadiest parts of town, and that’s how I found her. Took me two weeks, but I found her. It took some convincing, and a bribe of chocolate chip pancakes with caramel drizzle and a side of cherries, but eventually I got her to come with me.”

Pietro pulled out rubbing alcohol, gauze, and a mini kit Peter swore was for stitches. “I was able to get her to go to sleep, asked her to let Violet come back to me, and thankfully she did.” He sighed suddenly, turning slightly to look at Peter. “I stood at the edge of the bed she was sleeping on just like you, Pete. Waiting and wondering whether the Violet I know would be back, or the . . . whatever Brea is would wake up and laugh in my face for believing she’d let Violet return. She’s wicked enough to do something like that.”

Peter sniffled but made no response to Pietro’s assurance.

“Even if Brea didn’t let her come back, she couldn’t keep Violet at bay for long. She’s too strong, too stubborn to be kept locked away like that. You know that as well as I do.”

Peter nodded, and Pietro turned his gaze back to the supplies.

“Since then, that Brea has only come back out a handful of times. Violet and Wanda are the only other two who are aware of this. Well, until now that is.” Pietro turned back to the first aid kit, shaking his head. “Violet’s aware of Brea’s violence, but not the full extent of it. I didn’t want her to know how bad it was because just knowing Brea hurt someone, used her hands to hurt another person was . . .” Pietro didn’t finish that thought. A tremor ran through his body, a sharp exhale proceeding it. “Wanda, Violet, and I made the decision to keep it under wraps and deal with it together instead of going elsewhere. We knew that if we were to seek professional help at best Violet would end up in a psych ward somewhere because of all of her past trauma while at worst she’d be in prison for nearly beating someone to death or dead herself because of what happened that birthed Brea in the first place-”

“HYDRA,” Peter interrupted, voice quivering with tears. “HYDRA did this to her.”

That brought Pietro’s gaze back to Peter. “HYDRA? That rival mob The Avengers wiped out?”

Peter nodded. “They marked her. Intended to experiment on her.”

“Are you serious?” Pietro asked bluntly, crossing his arms. “Fuck. How do you know that?”

“We’ve been learning a lot since . . . well you know.” Peter shrugged, sniffling once more as tears fell. “Not a lot to do in captivity, especially when you’re surrounded by dangerous people harboring equally dangerous secrets.” Peter huffed out a breath, wiping his face with his palm. “I’m sure someone will fill you in since you’re going to be held captive with us now.”

“Don’t sound so excited,” Pietro grumbled, cocking his head slightly. “You making me think you don’t want me around.”

“I’m not in the mood for jokes, Pietro.” Peter shot back, voice breaking in random places, wiping his face more furiously.

“Yeah, neither am I.” Pietro grumbled.

“If it’s any consolation,” Jarvis entered the room, wet rags in hand wearing a gentle expression aimed at Peter. “Though I admit I’m rather ill-informed about the full gravity of the current situation, I do believe Violet will come out of this in good health. Considering Brea’s antics on the plane ride here and Violet’s actions when she woke up from her slumber, I daresay she’ll be perfectly fine. Albeit a little rattled. Especially since we’ll ensure Violet has the best medical care available. None of which will end in prison, the cemetery, or a psychiatric ward. Why, if I were a betting man, I would place a large sum of money that our wonderful A.I. FRIDAY already has multiple professionals lined up and vetted for the sole purpose of helping Violet through this unfortunate situation.”

“It’s not an unfortunate situation,” Peter cut in, “it’s Hell.”

There was a pause. Both men looked at Peter with careful gazes. Jarvis carefully walked around the bed to hand him the rags before turning back to Peter. “Mr. Parker, I’m terribly sorry if my comment upset you-”

“It’s not you Jarvis,” Peter trembled, giving up on wiping his face as more tears began to fall. “I’m sorry for being rude.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Jarvis smiled cautiously. “These past few weeks have been anything but easy for the pair of you. It’s perfectly normal to feel what you’re feeling.”

“I don’t care what I’m feeling,” Peter shot back intensely, voice breaking even more as he began to cry impossibly harder. “I don’t care about Brea and the things she’s done in the past. I don’t care about how it happened. I don’t care that you and Wanda have kept this from me and everyone else. All of those things can wait.” Peter paused, catching his breath as his head drooped forward. “I just want my sister back.”

Peter closed his eyes and sobbed uncontrollably. Body shaking from the effort, lungs burning from the stress, and head throbbing with his heartbeat. He could feel their eyes on him. He could feel their worry and inner monologues deciding what to do about him. He didn’t care.

He needs Violet.

“Peter,” Wanda spoke softly, hands descending on his shoulders once more. “Look at me.”

Peter tried. He really did. His eyes stayed closed as his body leaned into her touch. She gently guided his head to press against the crook of her neck. He stayed there, crying into her embrace. She hugged him close, but he didn’t return it.

“Peter,” Wanda repeated, “I think you should go back to the main room.”

“No,” Peter whimpered, shaking his head forcibly against her body.

“Sweetie, we need to clean her up and check her over. We need to make sure she’s okay, and you don’t need to be here for that.”

“I have to be,” Peter cried, “I have to be there for her.”

“You don’t have to, Peter.” Pietro’s firm voice cut in. “I’m going to take care of her. I’m going to make sure she’s okay and stays safe. I won’t let anyone touch her or get near her that I don’t think is safe around her. And when she wakes up, you are the first person who gets to see her. Understand? I’ll call you here and lock everyone else out to make sure you two get the time you both desperately need. Okay?”

Peter sniffled, “you promise?”

“I promise,” Pietro returned intensely.

“In the meantime,” Wanda interjected gently, “go back to your room and get some rest. Okay? Get some rest and wait until we give you an update.”

And that’s where Peter was now. Sitting on the edge of the bed in his room staring aimlessly at the tiny sliver of window at the far side of the room. For hours he hasn’t moved. For hours, since he entered, he watched the light brighten throughout the course of the day and darken as night took over. At some point someone came in to light the fireplace Peter didn’t realize was in the room. He dimly remembered the sight of a grey uniform he had grown used to seeing from the workers in the kitchens, but he didn’t dwell on it. It wasn’t important enough to remember.

He still felt his body quiver. Felt the burns in his chest from the heart wrenching sobs he continued to cry. Hours upon hours of seemingly endless crying. Once he was able to stop he’d start back up again because of one thing or another. He just couldn’t calm down. Couldn’t stop no matter how hard he tried. Yet, with everything he was feeling, he also felt . . . disconnected. Like there was a part of him that detached itself from the turmoil and watched from afar with minor curiosity.

Was this an out of body experience? Was this what happened to people who experience trauma? Was this how Padme felt when she died of a broken heart? Was that what was happening? Was Peter dying of a broken heart? His logical mind scoffed at him and told him no, but his heart that was so alight with pain very clearly opposed. Which was right? His mind or his heart?

He wished Violet were here.

It was when the torches were officially lit throughout the halls that Peter finally got a visitor. Not Violet like he was hoping. Not Pietro like he expected. Not Wanda like he half expected. Not even Jarvis who he slightly expected if the Twins were busy.

It was Tony.

Peter didn’t register him at first. When the Alpha entered the room, Peter thought it was just another uniformed worker coming in to stoke the fires. It wasn’t until the man stood directly in front of him and grasped his chin, gently guiding Peter’s gaze to his face, that Peter recognized him. He felt foolish, embarrassed for not paying attention, but not enough to knock him out of his daze. Everything felt like background noise, like he was underwater trying to hold his breath.

“Peter,” Tony spoke softly, but firmly. Warm brown eyes searching Peter’s face, brow crinkled in concern. “Are you in there baby?”

“Violet?” Peter murmured, eyes widening slightly, “is Violet okay?”

“She’s still resting sweetie,” Tony answered quickly, thumb brushing Peter’s jawline. “FRIDAY told me before I came in here.”

“Oh,” Peter’s shoulders sagged, “then why are you here?”

Tony’s brow furrowed a little more, jaw tightening as he moved to sit next to Peter on the bed, keeping hold of Peter’s chin as he did. “To check on you. See how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine,” Peter mumbled, ignoring how contradictory his statement was. He wasn’t fine. Anyone can see that.

“You’re not fine, baby.” Tony shook his head, eyes whizzing back and forth between Peter’s. “You’re lost.”

“I can’t be,” Peter titled his head in confusion, “I’m right here. Aren’t I?”

“No baby, you’re a few rooms over, but if you let me, I’ll bring you back here. Okay?”

“O-okay, yeah,” muttered Peter, thinking of Violet again, of what Wanda and Pietro would find, when they looked her over. Would there be- signs- of Brea’s violence? Would- was she okay?

Tony’s hands slid along Peter’s jawline; the pads of his fingers surprisingly gentle as they threaded through his hair delicately. “Shhh,” the man soothed, “c’mon back. C’mon back to me.”

That made no sense, Peter was right in front of the man. Peter frowned, wondering if he should have left Violet. He was family, right? Not blood family, but still family. Maybe he should have stayed there, been with her for- for the checkup. Not left her with strangers. Though Wanda and Pietro were friends, they didn’t feel like it anymore. After everything that’s happened, and all the things he and Violet have been through, they didn’t seem like friends anymore. Just memories. His head felt foggy, as Tony’s fingers rubbed gently at the nape of his neck, as soothing as the soft shushing murmurs he repeated again, “Shh, c’mon, baby.”

Tony shifted closer, one hand continuing to soothe the back of Peter’s neck and the other tracing down Peter’s jawline again, feather-soft, and almost hesitant. It barely registered with Peter as his mind raced, whirling with the revelations of the past events, trying for even footing in all this upheaval. He leaned into Tony, just a little, as if for warmth, the bulk of the other man a solid comforting presence at his side. He barely noticed his head tilting when the man’s fingers pressed a little more insistently along his jaw, baring his throat for the soothing slide of fingers along it, back and forth.

“C’mon, baby, give me something here,” murmured Tony, but there wasn’t anger in the tone, just gentleness, and Peter had no idea what he wanted. What could he want, from Peter? What could anyone want, from Peter? What did he have to give when he couldn’t even help Violet- couldn’t keep Violet safe?

Tony’s fingers caressed back up along Peter’s jaw, settling there while the hand at the nape of his neck rubbed away some of the tension. Well. Tried to, anyway. There was so much- Peter was spinning so hard, so wildly, between emotions. His back was a solid knot. But it was nice. It was nice of Tony to try.

Tony’s fingers trailed along his jaw, cupping it, his thumb flicking over Peter’s lips. Peter frowned, annoyed. But not annoyed enough to pull away from the comfortable pull of Tony’s warmth and the soothing feel of Tony’s hands, Tony’s touch. Peter moved his chin with the guiding pressure of Tony’s competent, comforting hands, tilting his head back even further, feeling some kind of pressure build deep in his chest, with the softness of Tony’s touches, the sheer comfort and security of being so close to the Alpha.

Tony tilted his head and murmured again, “Gonna wake you up a bit, baby. Need you here, need to know you’re okay.” Nonsense words, meaningless with the confusion of everything boiling inside Peter, but the gentle pressure of his fingers hadn’t changed. Peter pressed back, just a little, into the hand rubbing the nape of his neck, shifting his hip and thigh to be closer to Tony’s hip and thigh beside him.

“Mm, baby,” hummed Tony in approval, and then he switched the angle of his own head in a fast move, leaning forward and pressing kisses along Peter’s throat in a line straight up to Peter’s jaw.

That got Peter’s attention away from Violet in the room several doors down and the bubbling confusion building inside him. The sheer sensations would have done it alone- lips dragging against his skin slowly, beard stubble tickling and rasping at the same time- but the emotions that rose in him sealed his attention even more firmly. What was Tony doing?

“Mm,” hummed Tony again, clearly approving, so close to Peter’s ear, so- so in Peter’s space. So solid and there and touching and- and-

“T-tony, no,” whimpered Peter, grasping for words before he became overwhelmed by everything this moment- Tony’s lips against his flesh- meant. “S-stop, I’m not- I’m here, I’m with you, I’m with you.”

Tony lifted his head, his eyes amused and soft, and said, “Oh, are you back with me?”

Peter nodded, his eyes filling with tears again and stuttered, “I-I am, I’m-” before his voice choked off with tears.

“Oh, baby, shhh,” soothed Tony again, and that was- that was more than Peter could handle, Tony’s kisses and now, now the Alpha’s calm soothing hands, his gentle words, the way his eyes were, were so soft and kind and caring and-

Peter gulped, hard, and Tony told him, seriously, “It’s okay, baby. I’m here, and now you’re here. I won’t do anything you don’t want, ever, Peter. Ever. I learned my lesson. Remember? I stop when you say so. Okay? What do you want, baby?”

What did Peter want? Peter wanted- he wanted-

_He wanted his sister back._

Wrong thought- the minute he thought about it, allowed himself to think it, he realized it was the wrong thing to think if he wanted to maintain his tenuous control. The pressure building inside burst, like a dam, and Peter began to cry so hard he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, couldn’t hear Tony’s words. He followed where Tony’s hands lead him, guiding him down to lay on the mattress, pulling him into the Alpha’s arms, allowing those hands to touch and caress and soothe as he let go of everything. Every fear. Every ounce of anger, of shame, of self-disgust. Every bad moment, every uncertainty, every wordless protest he’d bitten back. Everything puddled in a growing wet lake of tears on Tony’s shirt, in Tony’s arms.

And Tony held him, solid and strong, and soothing, through it all.

_Pietro_

“How can you be so blind?”

The question floated in the air. Hanging above the twins within the tense atmosphere the question created. For hours, the pair barely spoke, or rather Pietro barely spoke. It was mid-afternoon when he arrived, but now it was dark outside. All his attention was on Violet, his dearest friend and most trusted companion during the spent in relative silence. Focused on getting her cleaned up, checking for fresh wounds, and cataloguing all the others she didn’t possess before The Avengers took her. He saw the healing gunshot wound. Saw the freshly stitched hand and the bandaged knee. Both of which he had to redress and fix the sutures because Brea opened them back up with her violent antics. So many bruises. So many injuries.

What have they done to his friend? What else have they done to her?

“Pietro,” Wanda whispered, tone shaking with heartbreak.

“Don’t,” Pietro shook his head, holding Violet’s hand in a gentle grasp within both of his own, pressing the tips of her exposed fingers to his lips with the slightest of pressure. “There’s no way you can explain away all of this.”

“I’m not going to,” her voice wobbled, shifting closer to his kneeling position.

Pietro kneeled beside the bed and has been doing so for the past hour. His knees ached, body quivering, but he didn’t care. After checking over Violet, Wanda helped him dress her. Instead of her naked form, Violet now wore a simple combination of black sweats and a heather blue pullover with Pietro’s leather jacket still covering her like a blanket. They weren’t baggy to Violet’s liking, but they covered her and maintained her dignity. That’s all Pietro cared about. Wanda took residence on the bed next to Violet around the time Pietro started kneeling, sitting up stick straight and staring intensely at their dear friend. Only blinking as the tears started to take hold.

“It wasn’t them,” Wanda muttered. “They didn’t do most of this.”

“Doesn’t matter if they did it, Wanda. None of it would have happened if the Avengers hadn’t taken her and Peter.” Pietro growled, eyes never straying from Violet’s relaxed face.

That was until Wanda scoffed.

“C’mon Pietro,” Wanda shook her head, “it’s Violet. She goes out every night searching for abusive Alphas to throw in jail or Omegas who desperately need help. She comes back covered in bruises almost all the time, sometimes covered in blood from ailing wounds that need to be stitched.” She gestured to Violet, another tear falling down her cheek. “This isn’t exactly new.”

“Are you saying-”

“I would never say that,” Wanda interrupted, voice breaking in random areas, “nor would I ever believe it.”

“Then what do you mean?” Pietro insisted.

“None of these are her fault.” Wanda spoke clearly, tone stiffening despite the breaks, “the only one truly at fault is Kilgrave.”

“Jessica’s stalker?”

“Yes,” Wanda nodded, the corners of her mouth turning down in disgust. “He snuck up on her and Peter when she was trying to get them out of New York. She had to stop because was going into heat, around some warehouse district I think, and that was how he caught them. He used them as bait, and when Violet called him out for his stupid plan, he-he shot-” Wanda paused, taking a breath to calm herself. “He shot her, Pietro. He shot her and left her to rot. The Avengers-”

“Was the reason she was running? Right?” Pietro interrupted, “the reason she and Peter risked their lives to escape while they held us captive? The reason she got shot-”

“They’re the reason she lived,” Wanda shot back, sniffling through the tears. “They got her back here and patched up before it was too late.”

“Got her back and then what?” Pietro glared at his sister, “it’s not just a gunshot I see here.”

“The fresh wounds on her hand and knee were from her own doing,” Wanda stated shakily, “she broke a beer bottle on her knee, causing the two injuries, and threatened to kill Mr. Stark for almost hurting Peter.”

“Almost,” Pietro growled, bristled with suppressed anger. “How did he almost hurt Peter?”

Wanda took a breath. “He went into a premature rut. One that could not have been prevented. Peter called for help and Violet, along with Mr. Barnes and Ms. Romanoff, came in and got Peter out before anything could happen. That was almost a week ago. The injuries occurred incredibly early this morning. About an hour or so before you arrived actually.” Wanda sniffled once more, a small smile brightening her expression. “I’m really glad you’re here. Though I’m sure I must be a disappointment to you right now.”

“You’re my sister, and I love you.” Pietro spoke intensely, pointedly. “I will never be disappointed in you. Angry? Yes, beyond words I’m angry at you. I’m angry that you’re buying into the regime. I’m angry that you want Violet, Peter, and potentially myself, to buy into it with you. I’m angry because our dearest friends have been hurt, held captive, and transported across the world against their will when they don’t deserve it.”

Pietro stood up suddenly, voice raising as he continued. “I’m angry because Violet has been severely hurt and you’re telling me that the same people holding her against her will are not the ones at fault for it. I’m angry that Brea has fully emerged not once, but twice in the past week when the three of us together were able to keep her under for over 6 months! I’m angry because Peter saw Brea, saw the worst of what she can do, and is now scarred forever because of it!” He was positively shouting at this point, the rage consuming him as he faced down his trembling sister. “I’m angry that he has to go through what we did. Wondering constantly whether Violet is going to wake up at all! I am angry, Wanda. I am completely, and utterly pissed off . . . but I will never be disappointed in you.” He finished softly, glaring intensely at Wanda’s trembling form.

He sighed, turning his gaze back to Violet, staring down at her still form with concern. “When the three of you were gone, nothing was the same.”

“What do you mean?” Wanda asked softly, so softly Pietro barely caught it.

“Everything changed,” Pietro returned to his kneeling position, holding Violet’s hand in front of his face once more. “Matt disappeared, and soon after Sam disappeared too. Karen and Foggy are defeated, wondering whether it’s worth it to keep going or not. Jessica is angry all the time. She has to go to AA and anger management classes to keep out of jail. This taxi driver, Lewis something, keeps dropping by the office asking about Violet. Wanting to see if she’s okay and if he can see her. Same with a Curtis Hoyle, but he doesn’t seem as . . . creepy. Seems really calm, stable, says he knows Frank, but no one’s been able to get ahold of him which doesn’t mean anything good.”

“What about work? Work’s still going okay. Right?”

Pietro shrugged, “job’s the same as it always was. Speeding around the city and taking people to the hospital. No difference there.” He exhaled sharply, closing his eyes, and briefly pressing his lips to Violet’s fingers once more. “The Omega house died the day the Avengers took us to the tower. The ones in our care were taken and treated at the hospital, but no one’s come by ever since.” He glanced at Wanda, noted how heartbroken she appeared. “It’s so empty now. Nothing but silence and echoes of what used to be.”

“I’m so sorry,” Wanda whispered, moving closer to Pietro, placing a warm hand on his shoulder.

Pietro pulled away from her touch, “why haven’t you helped them, Wanda?”

Wanda sighed, “I have been helping them.”

“No,” Pietro disagreed, “you haven’t. You think you have, but you haven’t.”

“They need Alphas, Pietro.” Wanda cried, standing from the bed, and pacing away. “Violet especially.”

“Violet doesn’t want one, you know that!” Pietro placed Violet’s hand gently on her stomach before standing and following his sister.

“But she needs one!” Wanda sobbed, “her heats are getting worse! You know that! Claire’s told us that!”

“It’s not your decision!”

“But it should be!” Wanda yelled, “it should be when my decision keeps her alive while her decision puts her into an early grave!”

“Alive at what cost?” Pietro shouted, “alive and mated to murderers and sadists or dead on her own terms, loved and remembered by those that knew her?”

“You don’t understand!” She whimpered.

“Then tell me!”

“She made that choice for me!” Wanda turned abruptly, crying, and screaming at Pietro. “She made the choice that kept me alive!”

“What are you talking about?!”

“I didn’t choose to leave Baron!” Wanda cried, “Violet did! She made that choice for me! I told her to leave it alone. I told her that things were going to get better, that I didn’t want anyone involved. I told her it was my choice to leave or not, and I chose to stay.” Chin wobbling, face covered in tears. “I chose to stay, but she got involved anyway, and by doing so she saved my life. She saved my life because she knew my choice was wrong. She knew what was going to happen when I didn’t. She knew what he was going to do, and she saved me.”

She took a deep, gasping breath. “She saved me, Pietro. Healed me, helped me, and has stayed with me ever since. She knew what to do, and I know what I need to do.” Her hands shook, she gripped them tightly, eyes wandering to Violet’s sleeping form. “I don’t want to hurt her just as she never wanted to hurt me. She did what was best for me, and I’m going to help make sure to do what’s best for her.”

“Wanda,” Pietro stated, but then he stopped. What could he say? He fucking hated Baron, but Wanda loved him. She really did. Why else would she stay? Why else would she put up with the pain he gave her? He’s never been through this before. He’s heard the stories from the Omegas he helped, but he doesn’t know what this feels like. He doesn’t know what it’s like to have his choice taken away from him like that. There wasn’t much he could say.

Turns out he didn’t need too.

“My dear,” Jarvis’ smooth, calm voice sounded through the room. The Twins turned to see the Alpha standing in the doorway, expression the picture of concern. He left a while ago to tend to some things for Mr. Stark, and naturally returned at a terrible time. He must have heard the shouting. “My dearest, Wanda.”

Wanda fell to her knees, sobbing into her hands as she crumpled on the floor. Apologies muddled by the raking tone in her voice. Pietro rushed to pick her up, but Jarvis reached her first. Kneeling in front her and gently grasping her shoulders. “My sweet, sweet darling. Please look at me.”

“I’m so sorry,” Wanda cried, shaking her head. “You shouldn’t have to see me like this.”

“Wanda, I’m to be your Alpha. And you my Omega. We’re going to see each other in quite compromising positions from time to time. Positions we won’t be looking our absolute best, and quite frankly that’s something I’m rather excited for. Not just for the scandalous and often vulgar activities, but for the morning after when we’re too exhausted to shower or brush our teeth. To bask in each other’s presence when we are as we are. Two human beings who love and adore each other for _who_ we are. Not what we show the world.” He rubbed her shoulders carefully, tentatively. “Please, my darling, let me see your face.”

It took a moment, a lot of deep and calming breaths, but eventually Wanda relented. Face red, tear-streaked, bits of hair sticking to the side of her face. She wore no makeup today, or else mascara would be running, and her lipstick would be almost completely gone from biting it off. Jarvis smiled, lifting his hands, and displaying them before her. “May I?”

She nodded, and he gently began wiping away the tears. “I know a bit of what you’ve been through. Some of which I was previously informed by Mr. Stark, a little more from what you’re willing to divulge with me. I’m aware that this will not be the easiest journey for the pair of us. Many wounds need healing and tending too. I’m aware of your pain, and part of me wishes I’ve felt that pain so I could better help you. Know this, my darling, I’m here for you.” Wanda let out another sob, and Jarvis smiled gently. “Everything will be okay in time. With patience and dedication to one another, we’ll make it so.”

“Violet-” Wanda whimpered.

“Violet is unlike anyone I’ve met, and that’s a good thing. It’s incredibly rare to meet someone as driven and . . . willful as she concerning her ideals. Honestly, she reminds me of the way Captain Rogers used to be when the Avengers first started years ago. Bold, idealistic, very much wanting to do the right thing.” Jarvis sighed, shaking his head slightly. “Of course, that changed when Sgt. Barnes was taken captive. When Mr. Stark was taken, it only made things worse.”

“Captain Rogers?” Pietro cut in softly, grasping their attentions. “You mean Steve?”

“Yes sir, I do. I believe you met him at your home on Halloween.”

Pietro nodded, “you say Violet reminds you of him?”

“She does, in a way she reminds me of all of them. Unafraid to fight for what she believes in even when severely outmatched. I can’t tell you how many times I saw that happen with some of the members. Sgt. Barnes and Captain Rogers especially. Just like them, she finds a way.” He turned slightly, addressing Pietro more formally. “You may talk with him if you’d like. That is if he’s awake. The Captain is more amenable then most around here, and if you have any questions concerning some of the events that have occurred concerning Violet and Peter, I suggest you talk with him. I would gladly do the same, but I was not present for most of it.”

“Wasn’t he one of the Alphas who were beaten by Brea?”

Jarvis blinked. “Oh, I wasn’t aware of that. Well, I suppose you could ask Mr. Stark, or perhaps Mr. Quill and one of his brood. Entirely up to you, Mr. Maximoff.”

“Pietro,” Pietro he corrected firmly, “and no mister. Please.”

“Of course, my mistake. Pietro.” Jarvis nodded, and Pietro nodded back. “Have you gotten any sleep, Pietro?”

“No sir, haven’t had the time too.”

“If you’d like there’s a guest room just two doors down the hall to the left. Once I knew you were coming, I had it arranged for you. Your bag and other belongings were transferred there while you were tending to Violet.”

“I don’t want to leave her.” Pietro stated firmly.

“Pietro,” Wanda mumbled, staring at him forlornly, “Violet won’t be waking up anytime soon. Go rest. We’ll keep an eye on her.”

“As will FRIDAY, our impressive and committed A.I.” Jarvis pulled out his phone, showing it to Pietro before setting it down near the edge of the bed. “Care to say hello to our newest guest?”

“Hello Pietro, it’s nice to meet you.” Sounded to robotic tone of FRIDAY.

“Um,” Pietro shrugged, “hello?”

“I can sense your discomfort,” FRIDAY replied, “and I assure you that I’ve been keeping a watchful eye on both Peter and Violet. I’ll make sure to inform you and Peter of when she wakes up.”

“How do you sense my discomfort?”

“I can see you through the camera on Mr. Jarvis’ phone. Your stiff and closed off body language tells me so. Also, your stress levels have been rapidly rising and falling throughout your entire conversation until Mr. Jarvis arrived.” She paused, letting that sink in. “Please Pietro, allow me to look after Violet. It’s the least I can do after being unable to prevent certain events from occurring.”

Pietro cocked his head, surprised at the sudden emotion in the robotic tone. “You care about her?”

“I do.” FRIDAY stated plainly, a tone brokering no argument, “And I would very much like to look after her.”

“But you’re . . . you’re a robot. Aren’t you?”

“I’m not a robot, I’m an artificial intelligence. Contrary to what some might believe, though I don’t feel as a human does, I have learned to care for those under my charge. Violet, though defiant and rightfully belligerent, has been easy to care about. Almost as easy as it was to care about Peter. I want to look after her and Peter both. Will you let me?”

Pietro took a breath, glancing at Violet’s prone form. No, she wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon. The girl rarely slept, and when this shit happened, sometimes she’d sleep for days. It was terrible, but it was necessary. He was really fucking tired too. He looked back to Wanda and Jarvis. “What are you two going to be doing?”

“I think we’ll get some aspirin first, take care of the headache you’re bound to have,” Jarvis murmured, pressing his lips to Wanda’s forehead. She softly replied, “already have it,” and he kissed her forehead once more as a result before continuing. “Afterwards we’ll get some food, talk for a bit, and I suppose just wait for Violet to wake up. Do you have any objections, my darling?”

“None at all,” Wanda sniffled, “I’m sorry for my outburst.”

“No darling, you have nothing to apologize for. Nothing at all.” He kissed her cheek, a warm, loving look in his gaze. “Come along, let’s wash your face.”

With that, the two gingerly stood to their feet and moved in tandem towards the bathroom. Pietro looked at Violet once more, contemplating the best course of action when a sudden thought came to mind. “FRIDAY, is it?”

“Yes sir, how can I help you?”

“You said you can read my stress levels, yes?”

“That is correct.”

“Which means you can read Violet’s?”

“Of course, is there are reason you’re asking?”

Pietro paused; gnawing is lip slightly. “Can you read hers when she’s in heat?”

“I can. I can also determine approximately when her next heat will be.”

“When?” Pietro interjected, eyes widening slightly.

“Based on her medical records and the fact she’s been off her suppressants; I’d say her next heat will occur sometime around Thanksgiving. No later than the first week of December.”

. . . Fuck, that’s not far away. “You have her medical records? Does that include notes taken by her primary caregiver? Claire Temple?”

Brief pause. “Yes. Would you like me to look at them?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind.”

“May I ask why?”

Pietro exhaled sharply. “Wanda and I are worried that Violet’s . . . Violet’s heats might be killing her. Claire mentioned they were getting worse, that her DNA had anomalies she couldn’t understand, and Violet wasn’t reacting the way she should be during her heats. Claire though it was a sign for the worst . . . that her heats,” Pietro paused, rubbing his face. “That her heats might be killing her.”

There was another pause. “Did Ms. Temple send a sample of her DNA out to anyone?”

“Not that I know of, why do you ask?”

“Can you grab one of those bandages. The ones Violet was wearing before you redressed her wounds?”

Pietro went to the wastebasket and pulled them out. “What do you need these for?”

“A simple analysis. Would you mind taking that to Dr. Banner. Dr. Bruce Banner?”

“Sure, but I don’t know where he is.”

“If you step out into the hallway in less than thirty seconds, Captain Rogers is currently in route to Sgt. Barnes and Ms. Romanoff’s room. He’ll be able to take you there, but only if you catch him now. I’m afraid once he reaches the Sergeant’s room he will not be out for some time.”

He glanced back at Violet, exhaling sharply.

“Promise you’ll help her?”

“I promise,” FRIDAY stated in a solemn tone, shaking Pietro with its sincerity, “now go.”

Sure enough, the moment Pietro stepped out into the hallway, Steve Rogers was right there. In fact, the Alpha was moving so quickly and recklessly that he bumped into the door just as Pietro was opening it, sending the pair flying as he did. Pietro was almost knocked back into Wanda’s room, and Steve went toppling towards the floor.

“Holy shit, sorry about that.” Pietro moved towards the Alpha, reaching out and grasping him by his tricep.

“No, you’re fine. I wasn’t paying attention.” Steve let Pietro help him up, voice scratchy and muddled. He stood to his feet, tall and towering over Pietro, but the Omega didn’t feel intimidated. Plenty of men, plenty of alphas were taller than him. Didn’t make a difference. We he lacked in height he more than made of for him muscle. He might not be six foot, but he wasn’t far off. The Alpha turned to look at him, surprise stilling the man. Pietro gulped. He forgot how attractive the Alpha was.

“You’re . . . Pietro? Wanda’s brother?”

“And you’re Steve Rogers, the man who’s going to explain to me why all of my friend’s injuries are supposedly not the Avengers fault, tell me what’s been happening with Violet and Peter these past few weeks, and you’re going to take me to Dr. Bruce Banner to run an analysis on this,” Pietro held up Violet’s bandage, “so FRIDAY can compare it and answer some of my questions concerning Violet’s health.”

“Is she okay?” Steve’s eyes widened, turning to face the Omega head on, stepping closer as he did. “Is Violet alright?”

Pietro flinched, confused by the concern in the Alpha’s expression. “Yes, she might be out for a while longer, but she’ll be fine. Not the first time Brea has fully emerged, but the goal is to make it the last without hurting Violet.”

“Agreed,” Steve nodded, letting out a breath like he was holding it for ages. There was a strange look in his eyes, eyes Pietro couldn’t help but notice were a comforting balmy blue. They looked frazzled, unhinged. A slight sheen of sweat across his brow. He was scared, but what could scare him? There was also something else Pietro noticed. Something surely everyone would notice, but Steve was too frazzled to care.

“Nightmare?” Pietro asked suddenly, his free hand gesturing towards Steve’s head.

Most Alphas would scoff at Pietro, look down at him with disgust for asking such a question, but Steve merely sighed. “How did you guess?”

Surprised, Pietro murmured, “I’ve walked Violet through too many nightmares to not recognize that look. I suppose it was about Brea?”

Steve nodded, unoffended by the question. Pietro cocked an eyebrow, deciding to test his luck and point out something quite obvious that Steve seemed to miss. He pointed to the Alpha’s pants. “I’m going to guess it started out as a wet dream?”

The pair looked down in sync, “oh shit,” Steve uttered. Though contained by his khaki’s, Steve was unequivocally hard. His erection threatening to tear through the zipper of his pants. “Fuck.”

“You want to go take care of that real quick? I can wait-” Pietro offered, but Steve shook his head.

“I’m not going to be able to. Not with how it ended.” He flinched, surprising Pietro to no end.

When he first saw Steve Rogers, he was a sturdy man who held his head high with pride without the arrogant qualities it so often comes with. He seemed strong, steadfast, and not a man to be trifled. Standing before him now, Pietro had trouble believing this was the same man. Not because of his looks, which remained just as pleasing and mouthwatering as the first time Pietro saw him, but his behavior was so vastly different. Shrinking in on himself, eyes dashing around the room, slight shakes spasming throughout his being. Pietro couldn’t believe it, but it was happening. There was no lie in Steve’s eyes. He was scared.

That did something to Pietro. Enacted on his Omega instinct. The instinct to nurture and protect. He damned that part of himself most days, even when it was helpful in his job, but right now he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t want to care, life was easier when he didn’t, but with Violet he couldn’t do that.

And for some reason he couldn’t do it now.

“Where’s your room,” Pietro asked bluntly, snapping his fingers in front Steve’s face to grasp his attention.

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m going to take care of that for you,” Pietro stated just as bluntly, staring unblinkingly into Steve’s eyes gesturing to the man’s erection. “Now where’s your room?”

“Pietro, I don’t-”

“I know you don’t know me, and I don’t know you. What I do know is that as long as you’re this frazzled, off balance, and hard as fuck I’m not going to get the answers I need out of you. If I have to jerk you off or blow you to get those answers, then so be it. If you’re really that opposed to the idea then I don’t mind waiting until you’re calmed down, but I’m not going to stand around in this hallway while we wait. Understand?”

Steve took a few deep breaths, watching Pietro curiously. “Yeah. Yeah, I understand.”

“Good,” Pietro nodded, pointing down the hallway where Steve was just coming down. “Now lead the way.”

_Bucky and Nat_

It was mid-morning when Brea emerged and knocked the two Alphas senseless. It was well into the afternoon when they awakened almost simultaneously after undergoing multiple checkups and observation by the meticulous Dr. Strange. Natasha’s neck was severely bruised and left her momentarily incapable of heavy speech. James was in a similar state, but thanks to his regenerative healing from his serum induced state, he was almost completely healed despite his injuries being significantly worse.

Now, well into the evening, Natasha was healing nicely and able to speak freely without too much pain. She wasn’t subjected to the serum like James and Steve, but thanks to the special properties of their blood, Dr. Strange and Bruce were able to create a mini serum in a way. Not to the extent of creating another enhanced being such as James and Steve, Bruce learned his lesson on that front, but nothing more than small, diluted dose of it in a bottle. Instead of working on the entire body’s chemistry, it focuses on regenerative properties to help speed up the healing process. It’s not used often. Only in more severe circumstances like Natasha’s injury do they consider the option. The dose itself wasn’t inherently dangerous or lethal in the right dose but add just a hair too much or too little and it’s turns into a poison that kills instantly. It’s risky, but both decided it was for the best.

The Alphas lay on their bed, cuddling close to one another. James lay on his back, holding Natasha close as she rested her head on his chest. They were silent for the most part. Minor grunts of complaint voiced here or there, but otherwise silent. However, the room itself wasn’t silent. They wanted to go see their darling. Cuddle up in bed with her and hold her tight, but there were pressing matters that needed tending too. Their bedroom was filled with audio playback from the past few weeks. Audio coming from a laptop graciously given to them by Dr. Strange, who has remained in the room per James request. A laptop that was set up on James lap so he and Natasha can watch the playback without too much interruption.

Playback of Steve’s encounters with their chosen over the past 2 weeks.

From Violet’s nightmare in the med bay to the fight against Brea, James and Natasha watched every interaction between their Chosen and their beloved confidant. Watched their friend observe their chosen, protect their chosen, and talk with their chosen. Natasha felt a bitter pain in her chest as she saw how easy it was for Steve to get Violet to talk. How seamless their conversation was while doing something as menial as cooking together. James felt it too, but he felt more relieved than anything. It saddened him that she wouldn’t talk to them like that, but he was glad she was at least opening up to someone other than Peter. Natasha didn’t feel relieved. She was jealous.

The Alphas watched Steve’s movements throughout each interaction and felt their hearts grow heavy as a result. Steve never strayed too close, mindful of his distance. Even when he bravely bought her time by facing Yasha alone with a nearly severed arm, he only got into her space to protect her and urge her to run. When dealing with Brea, and she stripped their chosen’s body to reveal her wonderful litheness for everyone to see, his eyes never ogled their chosen. Not even for a second. In other instances, the pair noticed his stare linger on Violet, but when Brea pulled off her shirt, he steadfastly looked at the ceiling or the floor.

Proving him to be the honorable Alpha both James and Natasha trusted above everyone else.

Still, they couldn’t ignore the way Steve softened the slightest bit when staring into their chosen’s eyes. The meaning behind that unfortunately clear to the pair. When they came searching for Violet after finding her missing from their bedroom – they left her to call Dr. Strange to officially set up the appointment and fix or replace her tooth once and for all – they happened upon Brea talking about Steve’s true Alpha colors, along with the Omega Pietro’s. James unwillingly recalled the memory of Brea describing Steve’s scent to a T and Steve’s following reaction. On top of that hearing her describe not just his but Pietro’s, an Omega, true colors was something neither Alpha was entirely prepared for.

Brea could see Steve’s true colors, and based on his reactions, Steve saw Violet’s too.

It would explain how Steve immediately knew Brea was there when she entered the main room. The bright magenta was such a contrast from Violet’s gold stars flickering away in her wonderful indigo. It also explained why she seemed much more relaxed around him than with Clint and the others. Watching her week spent with Clint and the rest, it took Violet a while to fully relax around Clint and the Guardians. With Steve, apart from a little tension in her neck at first, she was completely at ease with him. She even laughed and smiled with him.

James and Natasha weren’t entirely sure what to do about that.

“If this were anyone else,” James paused the video as Brea began her attack on Natasha, “they’d be dead already.”

“This isn’t just anyone,” Natasha whispered softly, wincing for the effort. “It’s Steve.”

And that was the problem.

Steve’s a good man. One hell of a soldier, a dependable leader, but a good person above everything else. Even with the sledgehammer and all those who have died from his ruthless beatings, Steve’s the best of them all. He would never do anything to betray James and Natasha’s trust. Never. He’s always backed them, always fought by their side, always trusted them even when others had their misgivings. He’s always been there for them.

In a way, with intermingled Steve is with their life, it makes sense that he too would have a connection with Violet. Maybe not as strongly since he’s been able to keep his distance for the most part, but there was a connection. One that wouldn’t and shouldn’t be ignored.

“Perhaps it’s a blessing in disguise,” Natasha stated in a raspy, sardonic tone.

“How?” James inquired, tearing his eyes from the screen to stare at Natasha in surprise. “How can this be a blessing? My brother, your best friend, is interested in our chosen. That’s a death sentence.”

“In most circumstances it is,” Natasha nodded, “but this isn’t one of them.”

“Why? Because it’s Steve?”

“Yes,” Natasha confirmed, “and because it’s meant to be.”

Natasha sat up suddenly, pushing the laptop towards the end of the bed and straddling James. He gripped her hips in surprise, holding her in a gentle grip as stared at her in confusion. She smirked, cupping his face in her hands.

“What are we James? The three of us,” she clarified, burnt sienna smoldering in her intense gaze, “what are we?”

James furrowed his brow, “Monsters.”

“Not just monsters James,” she shook her head slightly, “we’re weapons. Weapons created to pursue and kill targets, complete missions will little to no fuss, and do as we’re told. I was taught not to feel with my heart because it would go only get in the way of the mission. You had close off your heart to deal with pain of Yasha’s birth. To deal with the conditioning, and all the horrors that came with it. To deal with the necessary tasks The Avengers needed done, and all the horror that came with it too. Though we care, we don’t feel as others do, as Violet needs us too. We feel with this-”

She rolled her hips, grinding that sensitive and oh so wonderful spot between her legs against James groin, earning a sharp intake of breath from him. “We feel through touch, through sex, through the one thing they weren’t able to take from us. When the pain of everyday is too much we fuck it away. When nights are filled with silence after a mission goes right, we love in our own carnal way.” Her hands moved from his face to slide down his shoulders, resting on his chest. “We rub each other down just as we bruise and bloody each other. We restrain and torture one another just as quickly as we release and hold the other just like this.” She nodded to his hands on her hips. “We’re physical beings, James. This is how we feel. This is how we show our love.”

“Violet’s not ready for that.” James stated clearly.

“I know,” Natasha agreed, tone firm and solid, “I know that now.”

“What does this have to do with Steve?” James eyed her warily, wondering where she was heading with this conversation.

She smiled, “Steve’s not a physical being. Not as much as we are anyway.”

James mulled that over. Natasha remained silent as he did. “You want to use him.”

“For now,” she slid her hands back up to his shoulders, “he knows how to talk to her. He got her to smile and laugh of her own accord. To relax and willfully eat something when everyone else has failed. We haven’t been able to do that, but he has. Even before Brea’s _confession_ of sorts, it’s plain to see. The two hit it off, and if there is a connection between them, if he truly sees _her_ and she sees _him_ , then death isn’t just off the table. It’s completely out of the question.”

“If they do have the connection, like the one we have with her and each other, what does that mean?” James sat up slightly, searching her increasingly happy expression. “What’s going to happen?”

“She will always be our Chosen.” Natasha stated clearly, no room for argument. “That’s never going to change. She won’t be his chosen, or anyone else’s . . . but that doesn’t mean she can’t be his mate as well as ours.”

With a slight widening of his eyes, and another roll of Natasha’s hips causing friction to his bulge, James understood.

“A pack?”

Natasha grinned, nodding eagerly.

James’ breath quickened, “Natasha, it won’t work. Packs are rare for a reason. They can’t be sustained, especially when there’s only one Omega against three Alphas. Even Violet, as special and unique and driven as she is, wouldn’t be safe under those conditions. The three of us would fight, gnash our teeth and claw to get to her, and that’s without her heat or our ruts in consideration. Even if Steve shares that same connection with her, he doesn’t share it with us.”

Her smile didn’t fade in the slightest. “He doesn’t need to James. He’s already perfect as he is.”

“What do you mean?”

“Cartagena.” She winked, giggling slightly as she squeezed his shoulders and rolled her hips again. “Or don’t you remember praising him and his orgasmic submission while reprimanding me for not following your rules?”

James didn’t know how to respond to that. She leaned down slightly, bumping her nose against his. “Two dominant Alphas who know every trick in the book to make our darling feel good in every physical way imaginable, a submissive Alpha who can ease her into this life and share the emotions we can’t reciprocate, and something else just as good.”

“Natasha,” James whispered, taking a breath to steady himself amid the erection she was bringing forth with her wonderful touches and devilish smirks. “A pack can’t be sustained with only one Omega. It could kill her.”

She leaned back an inch, staring deep into his crimson eyes. “I guess it’s a good thing that our darling had a little crush on one Pietro Maximoff. The handsome Omega who’s due to arrive at any point, that is if he hasn’t already.”

James didn’t have time to let that sink in before her lips were on his, and the pair quickly lost themselves in the lustful daze that quickly led them somewhere far more intense.

_Violet_

_Did I drink last night?_ Was the first thought that came to mind when she finally came too. She felt terrible. Every inch of her body ached from lack of movement while certain parts throbbed from previous pains from injuries she obtained from the past few days. Most of all her head was killing her. Positively, and unequivocally, killing her. She groaned from the pain, her hands moving to rub her temples.

“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty. You’ve got a lot of people worried.”

Violet opened her eyes tentatively, then let them pop wide. She did not fall asleep in this room, she definitely did not fall asleep on this bed, most certainly didn’t fall asleep wearing a blue pullover or a pair of black sweatpants, and definitely not with a fucking stranger in the room. Who the fuck was this dude?

A tall and willowy man who resembled a tree more than a human being in stature sat next to the bed with a Stark Pad in hand. There was a certain grace and eloquence in which he held himself, definitely signs of a rich societal upbringing, or at least a cushy job that involved interacting with those in society and shit like that. His face had a distinct rectangular shape that retained many handsome qualities and fit perfectly with his lanky form. Wavy brown curls slicked back, a grey button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and charcoal grey slacks tailored perfectly to him.

Grey eyes, striking and bold in tandem with the sharp features of his face, gazed at her with a studious gleam over the edge of his Stark Pad. Violet pulled herself up to a sitting position, wincing slightly for the effort, but keeping eye contact with the man. “Who the Hell are you?”

He smirked, followed a grunt of amusement. He set the Stark Pad on the bedside table next to Violet and clasped his hands in his lap. A fancy black Rolex briefly caught her eye as it caught the light from the flames in the fireplace.

“My name is Dr. Stephen Strange, we briefly met early this week after the Winter Soldier emerged and nearly killed Steve Rogers and company. I am in here today to assess your condition, but I’m not ashamed to admit I have an ulterior motive to helping you today.”

“How forthright of you,” Violet commented in her sarcastic tone. “What is it?”

“I need your help to expose Dr. Betty Banner to the Avengers without getting her killed.”

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

 _Fucking Hell. Life! You suck!_ Violet thought mutinously as her jaw dropped of its own accord, and Dr. Strange sat there watching her with the patience of God.

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Fmscandida%2Fbucky-natasha%2F&psig=AOvVaw3movuCwg09ZuX5phJHfj3j&ust=1592197885178000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCLiEmsTFgOoCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAL)

(Love this pic, couldn't help it lol)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fweheartit.com%2FShany_Tomlinson28%2Fcollections%2F159040149-aaron-taylor-johnson-a-k-a-pietro-maximoff&psig=AOvVaw12FyZHNKeIoUoosyM7hCZK&ust=1592198063396000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCNjwpZnGgOoCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAD)

(Reasoning with Steve ;))

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fsharonisantisocialimagines.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F163914211561%2Fbroken&psig=AOvVaw0FL8gfQjyiGmCJX50FZ_0N&ust=1592198163360000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCNiCnMTGgOoCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAT)

(Shaken and scared Steve)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Fpin%2F23151385569279861%2F&psig=AOvVaw3E5GBKWAEDfqWNKlkjeFSN&ust=1592198263329000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCLjisvTGgOoCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAD)

(I'm sorry Peter)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.waterandnature.org%2Fchloe-price-quotes%2F&psig=AOvVaw1nrEpR5_Vvzgmd7Iv1UGdX&ust=1592198380032000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCKjovrrHgOoCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAX)

(Violet in a nutshell)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, that was a doozy. Poor Peter. Do you think he'll be okay? How about Wanda? What did you think of Natasha's revelation? What about Pietro and Steve's . . . interaction ;)? What is Strange up to? So many questions, so many paths the plot can take us. Thank you again for reading! I hope you guys enjoyed it! Be sure to check out TellMeNoAgain! She's an amazing author!
> 
> Let me know your thoughts on the chapter! :D
> 
> Before I go though, I do have two quick questions for you guys.   
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> Who do you guys think is Violet's father? Who do you want it to be? ;) I already have options lined up, but I'd love to know your thoughts on the question at end. 
> 
> Thank you again! :D


	23. Life in Her Yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pietro calms Steve, and Dr. Strange lays out the truth for Violet. 
> 
> Inspired by Rag’N'Bone Man "Life in Her Yet".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG I'm so sorry. I remember a time where I posted every few days and felt so accomplished. Now I'm lucky to post every few weeks. What's happened to me? Oh yeah, Pandemic. I hope everyone's doing okay. Some days seem like they're great, other days seem terrible. Hopefully things start getting better soon. This chapter isn't what I expected it to be but I'm mostly happy with how it turned out. I hope you guys enjoy it! :D Best wishes to everyone!

Chapter 22

Life in Her Yet

_Pietro_

Pietro is many things. A paramedic for the City of New York. A loving brother. A decent man who accepts his shortcomings and embraces his flaws. He’s many things.

A blushing virgin is not one of them.

Since he first came to America around the ripe age of 15 to stay with his Uncle Eric and his mate Charles, Pietro has experimented with sex. Most of it came about thanks to his sudden presentation of his Omega Orientation, but another part was due to an unfortunate wrong turn that led Pietro Maximoff into a sex club. In that wrong turn, Pietro began a path of self-discovery that started with The Mistress in her scandalous and equally tantalizing black latex outfit running a finger up and down his chest, and ended with him on all fours getting pounded into by the aptly named “Pounder” on his eighteenth birthday. He was _punished_ for laughing at the nickname and laughed even more when “The Pounder” threatened to _pound_ him until he couldn’t walk anymore. Bleeding profusely and whimpering from his _pounding_.

Pietro responded with, “sounds like a _bloody_ good time. Give me all you got.”

Pietro learned very quickly during his various sexual escapades what he liked and didn’t like when it came to sex. He loved bottoming, loved the feel of another man pushing him down and taking him for all he’s worth in an animalistic need. He doesn’t like being objectified and isn’t afraid to put his partner in place if they started pulling shit like that. Just because he likes sex doesn’t make him a toy, and if he gets called “power-bottom” for making his desires known and remembered, then so fucking be it.

When it came to sex, Pietro was the opposite of Violet. He thought it was a viable and even important tool in expressing emotions and fulfilling needs. Violet thought it was nothing more than a power game used to break a willing participant and humiliation tactic to further demean the “bottom” of the brief partnership. Pietro didn’t blame her for her beliefs. With all the shit Alphas pull on her and others that share their second gender, she had every right to believe that and not for a second did he hold it against her. He respected her beliefs and made it known that he supported her despite disagreeing with her. It made him love and respect her even more when she pushed aside her own feelings and supported his views of sex in return.

It was because of her views that he never made a move on her, and the fact that he’s mostly known her as a minor. He knows people that are into the teen, no longer jailbait kink. Knows people who like to pretend that their partners are still minors and that what they’re doing is wrong, getting off on the experience of getting _caught_. He’s not one of those people. He doesn’t have a problem with it as long as the fantasy _stays_ a fantasy and doesn’t cross over into reality. That’s where he steps in and slaps a bitch for trying to fool around with underage kids, before calling in Sam to arrest the perverts. He doesn’t fool around with kids, and Violet technically still is one in many ways.

She’s grown up a lot. Hardened from the injustices she’s endured and the stories she’s heard from others in the Omega House. All the fights she’s been part of. All the people that have left for one reason or another. All the shit that’s landed on her throughout the years. How strong and determined she’s become throughout all the hardship. How she still has hope in people like them throughout the world. Good people that will make a difference and put an end to this suffering once and for all. It’s inspiring. Pietro admired her more than he’ll ever admit, but there was a part of him that pitied her too.

Her ideals, though good and amazing and what people should still aspire to believe in, were incredibly naive when considering the state of the world. Her ideals were ones that children believed in. Ideals her father instilled in her when she was a child herself. It was admirable how strong those beliefs remained, but it highlighted that child-like part of her that Pietro couldn’t ignore. The part of herself that can’t stay locked away. The child that just wants her Dad to come home and hug her close. The part that she reverts too when nightmares become too much. The part that was unlocked and tainted by Brea’s existence.

Pietro wanted to believe as she did, but he just couldn’t. There was a strong part of him that wanted so desperately to be with her intimately. The nights that she reverted after those terrible nightmares and she clung to him so tightly like he was the only thing keeping her alive, it made him feel so good and so wrong at the same time. He wanted Violet to cling to him as her. As the badass, driven woman who won’t stop just because people try to bring her down. He wants Violet to cling to him, not the child she used to be. He loved taking care of her, patching up her wounds and holding her close when things got too hard. He loved being with her, basking in her vibrant, striking brilliance.

But Brea was never far away, the ever-present shadow in Violet’s wonderful light.

He couldn’t stand Brea. He hated her with every fiber of his being. How could something like that hurt his dearest friend in such a terrible way? Force her to do things, unspeakable things, with such cruelty and malice. Violet deserved so much better than Brea. Violet was an angel that graced the earth, and Brea was a horrible demon that latched itself onto her when she wasn’t paying attention. He, Wanda, and Violet have worked so hard to get rid of Brea. To stop the madness and pain from occurring anymore. Like always, she came back, and now they had to start over. He was pissed, desperately needing a reprieve after walking in on the aftermath that was her.

Maybe that’s why he’s willing to get on his knees and take The Captain’s dick in his mouth?

Okay, there was more to it than that. Dealing with Brea, Wanda’s breakdown, and looking after Violet didn’t help his emotional state. Peter nearly falling apart in front of them as he stared at Violet’s still form didn’t help either. Flying on a, what was it, Quinjet for a 4-hour plane ride that should have taken around 7 after working almost nonstop and getting roughly 5 hours of sleep in the past week was not helping matters either. Dealing with the fallout of the shit that happened on Halloween was not a treat, experiencing the abrupt shift in his life without anyone to help him through it sucked, and suddenly getting cornered by men in suits while eating a burrito with his shitty partner with commands of, “Your sister has requested your presence, you have one hour to collect your belongings before we’re to bring you to the jet,” was the cherry on top of the worst Sundae he’s ever had.

Adding in the fact that The Captain was frazzled, looking incredibly hot and bothered with his clean-cut style, Pietro decided he was due some “self-therapy”. If that meant getting on his knees and sucking off the surprisingly luscious man standing before him, he was all in. If it meant groping that perfect ass and bruising that flesh with his fingers, he was game. If it meant swallowing a load from this perfect man and risk bonding himself to the Alpha, then so be it.

Which led him to now.

They didn’t make it to the bed. Not long after Pietro extended his offer to Steve, the Alpha seemed to grow more agitated, more anxious with each step they took to make it back to his bedroom. Pietro could smell the desperation on him. The urge for release ripe in his otherwise pleasant scent. He smelled so sweet. Sweeter than most Alphas Pietro came across. Alphas generally had a musky scent, tying into their natural need for dominance. There were only one or two others Pietro had known to smell this sweet, and both were submissive. Very submissive. Pietro smirked, liking where this was going.

Steve entered the room first, turning instantly to grab Pietro by the arm and pull him inside. Despite his tense state, Pietro noted how gentle Steve’s grip was on his arm. Noted how he carefully pulled Pietro in the room. So sweet. Not what he was expecting from someone as famed as _The Captain_. Pietro’s smirk grew. A gentleman. Emphasis on the _gentle._

Steve released him, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “Are you sure you want to do this? You don’t have to.”

Pietro raised a hand, silencing Steve and capturing those balmy blues with an intense gaze. He was respectful too. Even better. “Do you want help with that or not?”

Steve stared at him, mouth opening and closing. Hands inching towards his trapped dick before he forced them away. Chest rising and falling at a fast pace. “I don’t want you to feel like you have too.”

Aww. Insecure. Pietro can work with that. He stepped forward, trapping the Alphas eyes with his own. “Steve,” he started, reaching out his hands and gently grabbing the Alpha’s, moving in closer. “Do you want help?” Slowly, carefully, Pietro moved Steve’s hand and ever so gently placed it on his clothed erection. Steve flinched at the contact, watching Pietro hungrily as the Omega smiled and moved in closer.

“Answer me Steve,” Pietro breathed deep, taking in the Alpha’s aroused scent, surprised and enamored by the lightning shocks that littered his body from head to toe. “Yes or no?” He touched Steve’s chest, pleased with the moan that came from Steve at the contact. “Do you want help with that or not?”

His chin trembled. Breath picking up faster. Pietro wasn’t alarmed. He was excited. In all his escapades he hasn’t had someone get off this much just from him touching them, nor has he felt this-this . . . connected to another. Well, except for Violet. He didn’t want to count her because the closest they’ve gotten to being intimate was watching HBO’s True Blood together. God, he could still picture how disgusted she looked whenever clothes started flying or suddenly there was nude figures doing the do. Remembered how she started booing the screen until _sexy-time_ was over. He almost started laughing thinking about it.

Steve was very much not laughing.

“Vi-” he stopped, taking a few fast breaths. “I-I need to see Violet.”

Pietro lost his smile. Furrowed his brow in confusion. Why did he suddenly look so much like Peter? Could he – no he couldn’t have. Or maybe he did? Could have grown to care about her this much this quickly? All the same, it needed to be addressed. He dropped Steve’s hand, raised his own, and gently placed them on either side of Steve’s face. Steve’s quickly followed, gently wrapping his fingers around Pietro’s wrists. He stepped in closer, staring deeply into that balmy gaze.

His eyes were strange. Not in a bad way, but strange indeed. For the most part they were the balmy blue that seemed to fit the Alpha’s generally calm nature extraordinarily well. What was confusing were the lines of white in the blue, swirling around in circular patterns. Reminiscent of painted ocean waves on a canvas, or perhaps something else? The most confusing part was the red around the edge of the iris. Was there a popped blood vessel there? No, too symmetrical. The same in both eyes. Pietro couldn’t make sense of it. Then again, maybe he wasn’t supposed too. Those eyes fit the Alpha well. Pietro felt he was going to get a lot of surprises with this man.

And for some reason he found himself looking forward to it.

“Listen to me,” he stated clearly, firmly. Steve nodded, giving the Omega all his attention. “Violet is the strongest, bravest, wildest, and most reckless person I’ll ever know. This isn’t the first time Brea’s come out and at this rate it won’t be the last. Whatever happened today won’t be the end of it, and certainly won’t be the end of Violet. She’s too fucking stubborn to go out like that, especially when her family is in danger.” Pietro smirked, thinking of Peter and his crestfallen state. “She always comes back. Always. Brea’s a demon that plagues my friend, but Violet is an angel that won’t stay down.”

“A shooting star that crash landed on earth,” Steve mumbled, smiling to himself.

Pietro grinned at that. “Yes, she is. Truly magnificent.”

“Brea,” Steve swallowed, “Brea said she was a fox.”

Pietro rolled his eyes. “A white and black one. Right?” Steve nodded, and Pietro continued. “I can see Brea being a fox. Shifty and coy as she likes to be. Violet though? Though blind to it, she’s too powerful. Too bold. Too reckless. No, Violet’s not a fox. Not anymore.”

“If she’s not a fox, what do you think she is?”

Pietro chuckled, “a dragon. A baby dragon sleeping amongst helpless creatures and protecting them from something worse. A dragon that could evolve into something so much more if she just-” Pietro paused, shaking his head in frustration, “if she just excepts how amazing she really is.”

“She is amazing,” Steve remarked softly before cocking his head. “I thought Dragons were evil?”

Pietro shook his head. “Some cultures say so. Dictating that they’re greedy, territorial monsters. Others, like the ancient Chinese culture and other eastern cultures, say they’re guardians. Symbolizing strength, wisdom, bravery, even luck and good fortune. Protectors of mankind.” He cocked an eyebrow, smirking at the Alpha once more. “Now tell me, Steve. Which do you think describes Violet better? The sly and shifty fox that does what they want without a care in the world, or the powerful dragon so rare in a world like today?”

Steve smiled slightly, “both.”

“Really?”

Steve nodded. “Violet’s sly, hard to catch. She does what she believes is right without a thought of what could happen to her. Never really sure where her head’s going until it involves Peter. That strength, that brave and unbeatable soul rises up and burns in those eyes, and it’s . . . too beautiful to comprehend.”

Pietro tilted his head, showing his agreement to the statement with a knowing smile. “So, you can answer a question.”

Steve’s mouth opened, intending to answer once more, but Pietro quickly placed a gentle finger on his lips. Silencing him. Smirking at him.

“Violet’s going to be okay,” Pietro’s other hand moved down, down, down until–

Steve gasped. Hot breath coating Pietro’s finger. Pietro grinned, squeezing the erection slightly through Steve’s jeans, taking in the sight of the man before him.

“She’s going to be okay,” Pietro insisted, “now it’s time to make sure you’re going to be okay. Alright?” Pietro nodded, urging Steve to nod with him. “Good, now answer my question. Do you need help with that? Yes, or no?”

Finally, _finally_ , Steve answered. Staring intensely at Pietro, the Omega getting so lost in those strange eyes, the Alpha nodded jerkily. Immediately, Pietro’s hands went to the waistband of Steve’s pants. Thumb brushing the zipper before pulling it down abruptly.

“Stand there, don’t pull on my hair too much, and let me take care of you.”

Then Pietro smiled, winked flirtatiously at the Alpha, and dropped to his knees.

_Violet_

Violet had no idea what was going on, and there was a strong part of her that seriously didn’t _want_ to know. One minute she’s unwillingly falling asleep in the arms of two people who kidnapped her, two people she’s shocked to realize she’s growing more comfortable with, and then the next she’s waking up in a different bed in a different room with a strange man sitting at her bedside proclaiming he needs her help. Part of her wondered why she was so surprised. She’s woken up in far stranger places with significantly less welcoming company, so why was this such a shock? Weird shit happens to her all the time.

And like always, she’s going to handle it.

“Dr. Strange?” Violet asked incredulously, cocking an eyebrow. “Really?”

“That’s correct,” he nodded curtly, sitting up from his relaxed position in the chair, brandishing his Stark Pad. “And you are Violet Mason, formerly Brea Abernathy. Daughter of Scott Abernathy and Carla Russo. Both deceased. Half-sister to Billy Russo. Also deceased. Caucasian. Last weighed in at 98 pounds. Very underweight for your height which is 5’3’. We’re going to need to work on getting that up. Age 18, soon to be 19 come New Year’s Day. Has lived in New York City for the past few years though your current residence is not on file-”

“I’m homeless,” Violet interrupted, glowering at the willowy man.

“Interesting,” he wiggled a finger on the screen before continuing, “You’ve been a regular visitor to the hospital, most of which is not heat related. Looks like you have a bad habit of getting into fights?”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Violet grated, grinding her teeth, “what does this have to do with-”

“I’m getting there.” He interrupted, looking up from his screen momentarily. “I’m a Doctor first, amateur sleuth second. As your acting physician from this point forward, I’m both entitled and required to assess your health and wellbeing.”

“Whoa, hold on a second” Violet held up a hand, stopping him before he can continue. “You’re not my Doctor.”

“Per the request of Natasha Romanoff and Sgt. Barnes, I believe I am. It’s been made official as of this morning after your . . . _conversation_ with Mr. Stark.”

“I have no money,” Violet shot back, wearing an incredulous stare. “No money equals no paycheck for you.”

“Well, that would certainly be a problem if I were employed by you. Fortunately for the both of us, I’m employed by the Avengers, specifically Mr. Stark who most definitely has the money and resources to pay me. Ergo, I get my paycheck and you get a qualified Doctor.”

Violet’s brow furrowed, “I don’t need a Doctor, especially one employed by the Avengers. Besides, I’m already covered.”

“Covered?” He wiggled his finger on the screen, expression lighting up with recognition. “You mean by Ms. Claire Temple? She’s a nurse at the hospital you frequent. Or perhaps Wanda Maximoff? Another nurse at the hospital you frequent and one whom you’re clearly friends with. How about her brother, Pietro? The charming paramedic who you’re also acquainted with.”

“All of them,” Violet growled, gaze burning at the man staring calmly in return.

He nodded slightly. “I have no doubt they’ve all done their best where you are concerned, but based on some of these medical reports I’d stand to reason you were not getting the full care you’ve desperately needed.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? They’re the best the city has to offer.”

“No offense intended towards your friends, but they are most certainly not the best in their fields.” Dr. Strange tutted, wiggling his finger once more. “If they were, many mistakes could have been avoided. Many choices would have been made differently.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Let’s start with the obvious here,” Dr. Strange sighed, lowering the Stark Pad and placing it on his leg, straightening his back, and staring intensely into Violet’s eyes. “When a patient is in an unsafe environment a good Doctor, or in this case Medical Practitioner, would not leave their patient without adequate protection while they went off on some wild hunt for the truth. A truth that I happen to have right here,” he gestured to the Stark Pad, “a truth that was unfortunately used to manipulate them in order for me to come in here and have a chance to speak with you alone.”

“What truth is that? And who did you fucking manipulate?” Violet shot back, sitting up in the bed and crossing her legs beneath her.

“I did not manipulate anyone, but I did implore FRIDAY to find a way to get Mr. Maximoff to leave the room-”

“Wait, Mr.? As in Pietro?”

“Yes, he arrived this morning shortly after you were . . .” he paused, mulling over the potential word choice before eventually landing on, “incapacitated.”

“Pietro’s here?” Violet’s eyes bugged out of her skull, staring briefly at the Doctor before whizzing around the room. Looking for the exit.

“He will return to you soon, I’m sure of it,” the Doctor assured, reaching out a hand in a calming gesture without getting too close. “In the meantime, it’s best if you wait and steady your nerves. Being in this type of environment, or rather forced to be, is causing a lot of distress and putting much strain on both your body and your psyche.”

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock,” Violet quipped, exhaling sharply, “want to help a girl out and get me and Peter-” She stopped, eyes bugging once more, “oh fuck. Peter!”

“Mr. Parker is absolutely fine,” the Doctor interrupted, tone calm and steady. “FRIDAY just reported back that he’s asleep and is perfectly safe in his room. No one’s going to hurt him or do anything both he and you would not approve of. As a precaution, a few of the Guardians have been tasked with standing guard outside his door. A certain Drax and Mr. Quill.”

Violet relaxed at the names, body sinking slightly as she let out another breath. “Drax and Quill?”

“The very ones.”

“What about Rocket? Where’s he at?”

Strange looked at the Stark Pad once more, wiggled his finger on the screen. “They are both in the Guardian’s Quinjet. I believe they’re building something. What they’re building I’m not sure. It looks to be armor of some sort. Possibly a weapon? I can’t tell.” He glanced up, nodding to Violet’s increasingly relaxed form. “All the same. Peter is safe and guarded. Pietro will return unharmed to you soon. You don’t need to worry about them right now.”

She cocked an eyebrow in returned, “but I do need to worry about something?”

Dr. Strange nodded once more. “To continue our previous conversation of Medical Practitioners and good examples of them, a less obvious instance illustrates Ms. Wanda Maximoff.”

“Wanda’s an amazing nurse,” Violet quickly cut in.

“She is,” Dr. Strange agreed, “and she’s emotionally compromised. Her emotions are too erratic, too powerful to contain as a result of serious trauma. I have no doubt she’s vastly improved since the trauma occurred thanks to you and her brother,” he gestured towards Violet, a surprising look of pride flashing across his face. “Still, when you were left in her charge at the behest of her brother, she decided to go with her Alpha and seek comfort which left you alone.”

“She was probably having a panic attack,” Violet stated with a shrug, quick to defend her friend. “Sometimes they just happen and it’s better if she handles it right then instead of letting it run its course. She didn’t handle it alone, did she?”

“No, Jarvis was able to talk her through it. They left to get medicine for her headache.”

Violet nodded, “good. He doesn’t seem so bad, for an Alpha anyway. Glad he was there to help her when she needed it.”

“They do make a lovely couple. They’ll be good for one another.” Dr. Strange smiled, a small smile that just barely reached his eyes. “Now we reach Claire Temple.”

“Be careful what you say about her,” Violet stated plainly, holding a suddenly intense stare with the Doctor. “I love Wanda, but there’s no one else I trust more than Claire when it comes to medical work. Understand?”

Dr. Strange nodded, “I understand. I didn’t bring her up to belittle her work. She’s a fine ER nurse, and Memorial Hospital is extremely lucky to have her.”

“Why bring her up then?”

“Because what she believed to be a decline in your health was actually a sign of improvement.” Strange picked up the Stark Pad once more, scrolling through page after page until he found what he was looking for. “I’m sure Ms. Temple expressed her worries with you at some point about your heats. Correct?”

“Yeah, she mentioned it once or twice.” Violet shrugged, but her face was stiff.

“The reason for the concern is because of certain anomalies in your blood. Anomalies she couldn’t explain, and overtime the anomalies continued to grow. Combining with the fact that your heats weren’t getting any better, she reasonably took it as a sign that you were getting worse.”

“How does that equate her to a bad example of a medical practitioner, to which she is not?”

“Because she didn’t report it,” Dr. Strange shrugged. “I understand the reason is more than likely due to her relationship with you and your past experiences. Sending this information in could completely uproot you and force you on the run to avoid being taken for experimentation should this information get into the wrong hands.”

“Experimentation?” Violet’s eyebrows flew into her hair. “For what? Some anomalies in my bloodstream?”

“No, it’s for what the anomalies mean.”

“And what exactly do they mean?!” Violet shot back, body tensing.

Dr. Strange took a breath, gazing at her carefully. “They mean you’re evolved. Evolved in ways other Omegas with two scent glands are not.”

“How so?”

“The anomalies are Alpha DNA coursing through your system.” He stated plainly, not giving Violet a chance to let that sink in. “Normally that’s not an issue. Each gender has strains of Alpha and Omega DNA, but most often they lay dormant. Particularly in the case of Betas. Though not an Alpha or Omega, they carry the strands so that the next generation may succeed where they theoretically failed. In your case, these strains are active.”

Violet blinked, “And that’s a bad thing because I’m an Omega?”

“If you were a normal Omega, like Peter or Wanda or Pietro, I would say yes. However, you’re not normal. You’re evolved and have suffered much trauma in your life. Trauma plays a big part in Omega and Alpha biology.” He gestured to the Stark Pad once more. “It’s stated here that you presented as an Omega just a few days before you witnessed The Avengers murdering your brother, is that correct?”

“Just finished my first heat that morning.” Violet answered quickly, feeling terribly lost.

“Where did you go after you escaped them? Was there a place you were aiming for or-”

“No,” Violet interrupted, “I just ran. Wasn’t going anywhere in particular. I was just getting away from them and ended up at Mason Square where an Alpha tried to attack me. To mate me. She was really drunk, really high, wasn’t thinking clearly. Fuck, she probably wasn’t thinking at all. She just acted, consumed by the need to mate me, newly presented Omega. Didn’t matter I was only thirteen, just mattered what she wanted.”

“Were you able to fight her off?”

“I was at first, might have gotten away too, but she tased me before I got too far. If it weren’t for Jessica coming in and saving my ass, I would have been done for.”

Strange stared at her for a moment, considering something Violet couldn’t discern. “Well, they’re definitely going to have their hands full.” He murmured, head shaking slightly. “This is going to be a rough road for all of us.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Even as she asked the question, Violet really didn’t want to know the answer.

“Have you ever heard of love maps?” He asked suddenly, cool grey gaze settling on her once more.

Violet racked her brain, “Um, sort of. I know it’s a psychology thing. Deals with the development of a person’s ideal sexual fantasy or some shit.”

“Sort of. More accurately it deals with the development of a person’s ideal mate. They begin to develop shortly after birth as we grow and take in informational cues of what our mate is supposed to be like. Another love map begins to grow after we present, mostly in those who present earlier than expected, like you did. Most people present between the ages of 15 – 19 while you and Peter presented at 13 and 14. Correct?”

Violet nodded, but otherwise didn’t say a thing.

“Long story short, your love map was not only disrupted, but hindered by the trauma you suffered at witnessing such a horrible event that was your brother’s murder, and then unfortunately quite literally running into another traumatic event where you were almost mated against your will. With all these other instances I was informed of, I’m afraid to say you haven’t been able to complete that love map in the way it’s supposed to be and therefore have gone against your biology.”

“Gone against my biology?”

“Omegas inherently need Alphas just like Alphas need Omegas. They need one another for solace, comfort, completion, etc. Biologically and emotionally, there are a plethora of needs that can only be met by the other gender, needs that you have chosen to deprive yourself of due to your rightful and justified distrust and anger at Alphas.”

Violet’s eyebrows flew into her hair again. “Wait, is that why I have active Alpha strands in my DNA? Because I deprived myself of an Alpha during heats?”

“It’s too early to tell, but I’d wager you’re near the mark on that. Unfortunately, if that is the case, then even if you did seek out an Alpha, those strands won’t just go dormant again. They’re activated, and that’s going to bring up some complications.”

“What kind of complications?”

“Well, for one, it means longer heats. You’ll become more violent and volatile during that time. You wouldn’t be able to settle down with a single Alpha, you’ll need more than one to contain you during your heat. You’ll also need an Omega to calm your worst impulses and soothe you during that time. Then again, there is the option of just continuing your heats alone as you have, but I’m afraid by doing so will make the problem worse.”

“Why does it sound like you’re just trying to scare me into letting Nat and Bucky mate me?”

“I assure you, that’s not my intention. As your Doctor, whether you want me to be or not, I’m answering your questions as honestly as I can and laying out your options. Options you don’t need to decide on just yet. I’m keeping you informed. That’s all. Besides, The Widow and The Winter Soldier don’t need my help in their attempts to woo you. They can try and fail all on their own.”

“Trust me, they’re going to fail.” Violet growled, moving to sit on the edge of the bed and facing the Doctor head on. “Now enough medical talk. I can’t understand most of it anyway. What was that other thing you wanted to talk to me about? The thing with Betty?”

That cool grey gaze landed on Violet once more. Her sky blue stared back just as coolly. A beat of silence. Neither moved. Strange flinched, and then he handed her the Stark Pad. “Take a look at this.”

It was a medical form, that Violet could plainly see. Betty’s name was scrawled at the top. Vitals were charted, notes were written. Based on what little Violet knew it appeared Betty was in excellent health. She noted the date. October 31st, 2013. Violet flinched at that. The day her brother was murdered. She noted the time. 3:46 A.M. Her brow furrowed. That was hours before Billy supposedly pushed her down the stairs, hours before her miscarriage supposedly occurred. And yet . . .

Strange’s finger appeared and tapped the screen, and a video popped up. It showed a long, opulent hallway connected to a stairwell that looked over what appeared to be a main entrance at a fancy building. Violet blinked, realizing it had to be Stark Tower. Just as she realized it, in came walking a man. A tall man with styled black hair, trimmed facial hair, and a handsome face wearing a scared expression. Violet felt her heart drop.

It was Billy.

Five years she’s gone without seeing his face. Five years he’s been absent from her life, from this world. Five years she’s thought about him, missed him, prayed she’d see him again. Five years since that horrible day. Five years, and suddenly he’s right there. It was really him.

She took a breath, finding it incredibly hard as she watched the scene play out. He was clearly on edge but was doing a fairly good job of covering it up. He walked stiffly, eyes roaming the hallway as he aimed towards the stairwell. Suddenly, Betty was right there. Charging in behind him, grabbing his arm and forcing him to turn around. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it didn’t matter as it quickly got heated. Violet’s eyes widened as Betty started hitting Billy. Hitting him, kicking him, pushing him towards the stairwell. Rage fueled Betty’s expression, warping her once kind and motherly face into this demonic, ugly beast descending on her brother. She kept hitting him and hitting him even though he didn’t hit her back. Not once did he hit her back. Not once did he do anything other than block her blows. They were right at the steps, Violet’s mouth dropped. She saw Betty eye the stairwell, that awful face lighting up in victory, and then the unthinkable happened.

Betty shoved past Billy and threw herself down the steps.

She tumbled out of screen and Billy was left standing there like a fool. First there was confusion on his face, assessing the part of his body she had assaulted, and then there was fear. Sheer and utter fear that seemed to freeze him in place. His lips trembled, his eyes went wild, and then the video stopped.

Violet felt just like Billy in that video. A fool. A complete and utter fool. All this time she thought his demise was because of the Avengers, and they certainly still shared a part of it, but now after seeing this she remembered something she’s long forgotten. _Not all Omegas are innocent,_ someone said to her once. That Melvin guy with the silver Lexus. The one that helped her escape the Avengers a few weeks ago. Fuck, it feels like months since that happened. She went back to the Medical file, searching for the reason for the late night/early morning visit.

“She lost the baby when she was sleeping,” Strange murmured softly, pointing out the diagnosis. “Though she was only a few weeks along, she couldn’t handle the fact that she had another miscarriage, so she put the blame on someone else for causing it. Billy was just a pawn.”

“Why hasn’t anyone seen this video?” It’s the only explanation. The Avengers were awful, but Violet suddenly doubted that they would pull that shit on Billy if they saw this for themselves. They were cruel monsters, but Violet couldn’t help but believe they wouldn’t have done what they did if they were to see this.

“The Chosen Protocol,” Strange stated firmly, a hint of disgust in his tone. “When a Chosen is severely hurt, the Chosen in question has full control for the proceeding 24 hours. Control of everything, everyone. If the Chosen is unconscious, then the demands go to the next Chosen, which would have been Laura if Betty had knocked herself unconscious. Betty had FRIDAY knock the cameras to the facility out, blamed the whole thing on Billy, and ordered him to be tortured before having Bruce kill him.”

Strange shook his head, more of his disgust leaking into his voice. “She never liked him; always thought he was a bad Omega for choosing to live on his own without an Alpha. The fact that he was already doing something nefarious, stealing secrets from the Avengers, made him more culpable to the crime. I only know about this because I was using the cameras to keep an eye out for her. I knew something was going to happen, and I was right. I was able to record the interaction and save it someplace safe, but before I could do anything with it, Betty caught me. She cost my position and ordered me to delete the footage unless I wanted to fall the same way Billy did. FRIDAY covered for me and stated I had indeed deleted the footage, and I’ve been slotted into the secondary medical position ever since.”

“Why are you showing this to me?” Violet whispered, afraid her voice will sound just as broken as she felt. “Why reveal this now?”

“Because the only thing that can supersede Betty’s enaction of The Chosen Protocol is another Chosen being hurt.” He took a breath, steady himself, “all the pain you’ve endured, all the suffering you’ve felt, is because of her. She’s the one that started all of this. She’s the one that hurt you.”

“But why me? What am I supposed to do with this that the rest can’t?”

“Violet,” Strange stated softly, “the rest would butcher her without a thought. She used the protocol that was put in place to protect Chosens like her and instead she used it to manipulate them and had them butcher a man who didn’t deserve that end. Doing this, using this against them, is a death sentence. Once they find out she’ll no longer be a Chosen. They’ll never trust her; Bruce will never trust her again. He’ll never forgive her for having him a kill a mostly innocent man. He’ll let them kill her. You’re not like that though. You’re better than that. You know the right thing to do here.”

“What, enact the protocol myself? Isn’t that basically admitting or submitting that I’m a Chosen? Wouldn’t that trap me here with them? Trap Peter?”

“Most likely, yes.” Strange admitted. “But think about this. Think about what she’s done, what she’ll continue to do if she’s left unchecked. This isn’t the first time she’s manipulated others into doing what she wanted, and it won’t be the last. Not if someone doesn’t stop her. I don’t have the pull to stop her and believe me I’ve tried. FRIDAY can’t get past the protocol to reveal the video, but you do. If you enact the protocol yourself, then FRIDAY can show the video, show my documents, and put an end to Betty’s schemes for good. This can be over.”

Violet bit her lip, looking back to the screen. “How are you able to show this to me, but not the rest?”

“You’re a Chosen who was hurt by this, and because showing you won’t lead to her death.” He paused, raking his hands through his hair. “I’m not doing this lightly. I hate her, and I have every reason to hate her, but when I became a Doctor, I swore to serve life, and save people from serious harm. I don’t want anyone to die from this, and you proved to me, to everyone, that you are not a killer when you spared Tony. Violet, no one here would have done that. There’s order and rules, but there’s so much chaos in this place. Wild wolves that respect the pack until one of them steps out of line, then it’s hunting time. None of them could have spared him even if they wanted to.” He sighed, shifting slightly to catch Violet’s eyes, “don’t you see Violet? You’re the only one here who can handle this situation _the right way_.”

Violet stared into his grey eyes, unnerved by how fierce they suddenly became. She couldn’t think though. She couldn’t do anything. Not right now. All she was to see her brother. She needed her brother so bad.

And she was going to find him.

“I need to talk to Peter first,” Violet stated, abruptly standing from the bed, lifting the Stark Pad. “Mind if I take this with me?”

“Of course,” Strange nodded, standing with her, “but Violet, there’s something else you need to know.”

“What else could you fucking tell me!” She shouted, turning on him and glaring the shit out of him. She wasn’t sure why she started shouting, but now that she was, she didn’t plan on stopping. “First you say my body awakened dormant strands of DNA that make it impossible for me to have a normal relationship with anyone and continuing as I have is going to make it worse. You say my brother Billy was butchered because a deceitful woman couldn’t handle that she had a miscarriage and shoved the blame onto him, effectively nearly ruining my life as a result. Then you say I’m the only one who can stop her because of one video and a medical document that you can’t show anyone because of some stupid protocol that’ll trap me to the Avengers forever. How the fuck are you going top that? Are we in Atlantis? Is Jason Momoa going to show up riding a wave and challenge me to a drinking contest? Ooh! Let’s go on a limb and pull out of the Soap Opera well and say I got two fathers and I’m technically a twin! Won’t that be a twist!” She shook her head furiously, frustrated tears pricking at her eyes. “What are you fucking going to tell me!”

He stood there for a second, expression somber. He took a few breaths, straightened his back, and spoke evenly. “Brea emerged shortly after Ms. Romanov and Sgt. Barnes put you to bed. She went after Betty, but was stopped by Mr. Rogers, Tony, and your friend Peter. They were able to talk her down, but then Ms. Romanoff and Mr. Barnes arrived, and things got very bad, very quickly.”

“B-Brea?” Violet mumbled, dropping the Stark Pad to the ground.

“Emerged, yes. She fought with the Alphas, severely injured Romanoff and Barnes in the process. Rogers got off lucky, I think she lost some steam by the point-”

“Peter?’

“Is fine, he handled it very-”

“He . . .” Violet interrupted, finding it incredibly hard to speak. “He-He . . . saw? Saw me like-like that?”

The grey eyes grew sad, “he saw Brea, not you.”

There are times in a person’s life where they reach a certain point. A point that can only be reached after dealing with so much shit, so many ludicrous and idiotic situations that could have been avoided had they been handled it better, and never taking the time to breathe and sort through all of the ridiculousness before it became overwhelming and too much to bear. A point where everything stops. A point where all that was noise suddenly goes silent. A point where only one thing matters. A point that Violet has officially reached.

“Oh God. Peter.”

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.tumblr.com%2Ftagged%2Fdr-stephen-strange&psig=AOvVaw1_PBECyAuqP5VAcQTRdvDe&ust=1593719374395000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCJj2pcjprOoCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAE)

(Talking to Violet)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fgfycat.com%2Fgifs%2Ftag%2Fbetty%2Bross&psig=AOvVaw3Zzk-G48tB14TKqeKb4cr9&ust=1593719538412000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCIjJmJzqrOoCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAJ)

(Still think she's innocent?)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Fpin%2F47428602312133965%2F&psig=AOvVaw2MBOgz_jO5ksk6GezmWouG&ust=1593719677441000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCKC9idnqrOoCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAs)

(Poor Billy)

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fimgur.com%2Ft%2Flifeisstrange%2FJmAcm&psig=AOvVaw3OsyLuqFIWNe4A6VEobINI&ust=1593720071982000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCLCRlaXsrOoCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAo)

(Even in the darkest of times, there's Life in her Yet)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Cue bomb shell* Not really sure what to say after that chapter XD. What do you think Violet's going to do? How do you think she's going to handle everything? Should Dr. Strange have told her all that stuff or should he have kept it to himself? How about Pietro and Steve? Want to see where their alone time has taken them ;)? Next chapter Peter and Violet talk about Brea, and eventually Betty. Will they mutually decide her fate, or will Peter leave the decision up to Violet? Also, Scott has a mysterious visitor in his jail cell ;). Could it be the second father? Could it be someone else? Who knows? :D Who do you guys think is the second father? I know I asked that last time but I'm still very curious lol.
> 
> Thank you all so much for staying with the story. I know I say that a lot but I truly mean it. You all are so amazing and I truly appreciate each and everyone one of your comments. They mean so much to me and help me to continue writing when I feel like crap. Thank you again and, as always, stay safe out there. :D :D :D


	24. Symmetry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve finds relief and admits a surprising truth. Bucky and Natasha go a little too far. Pietro and Peter find comfort in Violet. Violet dishes out harsh truths. 
> 
> Inspired by "Symmetry" by SYML
> 
> As requested by LillyLoveCG, this work is inspired by "A Dream Turned Dark" written by unladenswallow. Peter and Tony's backstory of how they met and got to know one another is in there. I put it in the summary for the Prologue of "Soldier on Little Fox" but I'm going to put it here just in case you guys missed it. It's a great story that sadly has not been updated in a long time, well at least since I last read it anyway, and you should definitely check it. Violet's not in there, she's entirely my own, but the story is really interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 13,414. I repeat. 13,414. That is (roughly) the amount of words in this chapter. Like HOLY SHIT. What is happening? I have fought with this chapter. I have broken it apart and screamed at it. No joke I almost gave up and posted a mini explanation of why it was taking me so long. This chapter was hell for me, and it took me until yesterday to figure out why. 
> 
> It's too big! 
> 
> And yet, I didn't have the heart to break it again. Not after last time. I wanted to keep it together. To keep it going, and I finally succeeded! Well, I hope anyway. 
> 
> There are parts in here that are going to feel under-addressed, not given enough focus, and that's okay. Why? Because I'm going to give the moments a better, stronger light in the coming chapters. Have no fear! 
> 
> Thank you all so much for sticking with me! You're amazing and awesome and I sincerely hope you enjoy the chapter! :D
> 
> Also, there is NON-CON and Dubious consent in this chapter. You have been warned.

Chapter 23

Symmetry

_Steve_

Steve was in heaven. Complete and utterly absolute heaven. If this is what he got to look forward to if he changed his ways and suddenly became the old Steve again, he’d change in a heartbeat. He couldn’t remember a time he’s ever felt this way. Felt such an all-consuming pleasure roll through him and take him places he’s never gone before. Felt so good despite the gravity of the nightmare weighing him down. Felt so . . . so . . . complete with another person.

And all because Pietro got on his knees, licked his lips flirtatiously, and swallowed him down like he needed Steve to breathe.

Steve remained standing, but not without effort. His knees threatened to buckle, wanting to join this wonderful, vivacious man in a way that confused him. With his sexual partners in the past he’s never felt such an urge, never spared a thought for them. In fact, he’s always had trouble keeping his mind on sex. Instead ruminating over mission tactics, future plans, past mistakes, and miscellaneous nonsense like was the chicken from dinner cooked all the way through, has my paint dried yet, how much laundry needs to be done, etc. His mind always got in the way, and now he couldn’t remember what overthinking was.

With each swirl of Pietro’s tongue, more of his thoughts melted away.

His pants were still on. Unzipped and pulled down just enough to release his aching member and allow Pietro to give it the reprieve it so desperately needs. One of his hands covered and squeezed the hand Pietro used to slip into his boxers and claw at his muscular ass. God, each scrape of his nails made Steve jerk with pleasure, earning of choked moan from Pietro as a result. Pietro’s other hand, his left Steve believed, snaked its way beneath Steve’s shirt and gently ran up and down Steve’s toned abs. The pads of each finger catching on each groove before moving up to caress the nipple of his left peck before moving back down again. Steve’s other hand gripped Pietro’s hair, careful not to pull too harshly per the man’s request but holding it tight like a lifeline as Pietro bobbed his head and sucked him down.

Steve released a moan, head tilting back slightly. Pietro clawed his ass, earning a sharp thrust from Steve. He choked slightly, moaned around the intrusion, and sucked harder. He closed his eyes, losing himself in the sensation Pietro brought him.

Until he stopped.

Pietro pulled off his dick with a wet pop, making Steve whine in protest. Pietro laughed, kissing and licking the tip before pulling away once more much to Steve’s disappointment. The hand running up and down Steve’s chest moved to grip his member and quickly began jerking him off. Steve moaned once more; head tilted back even more.

“That’s it,” Pietro stated huskily, “just let go. You’re almost there. Don’t be afraid to admit what you’re really feeling.” Another lick to the tip, a shiver rolling through Steve’s body. “If you can’t admit the truth, you’ll never be satisfied. Trust me on that.”

Admit the truth. What truth was he supposed to admit?

“What do you – what do you mean?” Steve whimpered, thrusting gently in Pietro’s grip.

“The truth of your feelings,” Pietro stated plainly, “your feelings about her.”

About her? About . . .

“I-I can’t,” Steve shook his head, moving to pull away.

Pietro held on. “Now is not the time to think. It’s the time to feel.” He kissed his tip once more, and Steve expected him to swallow him down again, but he was wrong. Oh, was he wrong. Pietro went passed Steve’s dick that he was still jerking off beautifully, and put his mouth on his–

“Oh god!” Steve groaned, gripping Pietro’s hair even tighter.

He was sucking his balls. This salacious and seemingly all-knowing man nestled his face between Steve’s legs (pulling down his pants a bit more first) and took his balls in his mouth like he was born for it. Born to suck on Steve, born to torture Steve, to pull Steve apart and leave him helpless to his sexual advances. If that was the case, then he was positively the luckiest man alive.

He couldn’t stop moaning now. The work Pietro’s hand was doing to his member was almost as good as what Pietro was doing to his balls with his mouth. Sucking those sensitive appendages down, licking them and nipping them in all the right places. Steve’s never been so turned on before, never been so thoughtless and at the mercy of another in such a way before.

Well, except for Cartagena.

“Oh God,” Steve groaned, body trying to pull away once more. Cartagena. Bucky. The nightmare. No. Not now. Don’t come back now.

“Steve,” Pietro pulled away once more, “feel what you need to feel. Whatever’s going on, don’t fight it. Let it go, let yourself go.” Then his hands went away, gripping Steve’s balls as his mouth sucked Steve back down, leaving Steve helpless in all the best ways. 

Steve felt trapped, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. Rooted in place by the erotic sensations rolling through him, but more by the heavy weight in his chest. The nightmare was coming back, the fear from the end was spreading through him, the shame boiled in his chest, but there was something else. Something he didn’t recognize at first. With a swipe of Pietro’s tongue, the squeeze of his balls, and the magnificence he found entering Pietro’s willing throat, he realized why the disappointment was there.

He loved Bucky. The man is his best friend, his brother, and most trusted ally. He’d do anything for him. Fight with him, defend him, fight against him if needed, even submit to him. He’d let Bucky do anything to him. Tie him up, gag him, whip him, use him in any way he needed. He’d do anything for him. Always. Yet it doesn’t change the fact that when Brea showed up in the nightmare, he wasn’t disappointed because Bucky wasn’t the one taking him deep.

He was disappointed because it wasn’t her. It wasn’t–

“Violet,” he moaned, gripping Pietro’s hair impossibly harder and thrusting more furiously, pleased when Pietro quickly reciprocated, moaning louder with the new pace. “Violet.”

He wanted it to be her. Her fierce, starry eyes and unbreakable will staring deep into his as they joined together in sexual bliss. He wanted her in his bed. Wanted to kiss her, soft and sweet. Wanted to hold her tight and never let her go. Wanted to run his lips over her skin, caress her scars and lick them away. Wanted to whisper praises as he slipped his fingers inside of her. Wanted to watch her moan over the pleasure he brought her. He wanted to do so many things with her. Take her to dinner, dance beneath the stars, laugh at her jokes, watch tv with her, sleep within her warm embrace. So many things, so many moments they could have.

But never would.

She wasn’t his chosen, she was Bucky and Nat’s. They’d never get those moments. Never get to know one another in that intimate way he so desperately craved. Never get to be as others could be. Others like the Banners, like Clint with Laura and Phil, like Peter and Tony might be . . . eventually. He’d never get that with her, and his heart broke at the thought.

But right now, in this one solitary moment, he could have this. He could pretend. Pietro seemed to understand that, why else would he urge Steve to do this? Maybe Pietro’s had to face this himself. Accept this about himself so he could move on. So he too could find satisfaction. Steve could pretend. Keep his eyes closed just a moment longer and allow himself to imagine. He knows he’ll regret it, knows it’ll come back to haunt him in some way, but he didn’t care anymore. He could spare one moment, one selfish moment to pretend. To imagine.

And so, he imagined that Violet was the one on her knees taking care of him, squeezing him and sucking him deep, and the moment the image of those starry eyes looking up at him entered his mind, he came. He came with a shout that was far too loud and out of place in this echoing castle. A shout that would surely alert all the inhabitants and send them running. A shout that was fueled with all the emotions Steve suppressed, all the secrets he’d never admit, and tainted pleasure that was fueled by the loss of a future he’d never have. Steve came, orgasming wildly and uncontrollably, deep inside Pietro’s throat, and the Omega held on tight, drinking Steve down with an expertise that sent another spasm through Steve.

“Violet,” Steve whispered once it was all over. Heartbroken and exhausted, the fight to keep standing became impossible. Pietro tightened his grasp on Steve, still sucking his cock, and helped the Alpha remain standing. He petted Pietro’s hair, his other hand moving to squeeze the back of his neck gently. “Violet.”

“You mean our Violet?” A smooth, salacious voice sounded, and Steve’s heart went cold.

He opened his eyes and froze in his spot. Pietro jerked, pulling off Steve, and turning abruptly to stare at the sudden intrusion. Recognizing them, he got to his feet and moved to stand in front of Steve protectively. Steve’s heart warmed at the action, but not enough to urge him out of his terrified state.

Bucky Barnes, his brother in all the ways that matter and his most trusted ally, stood in the doorway with Natasha Romanov, his best friend and other trusted ally. They wore their signature dark, militaristic clothes including boots and weapons. Bucky had his long dark hair tied back in his signature bun, a few strands escaping to accentuate his handsome face. Natasha’s shorter hair flowed free in its wavy glory. They wore no bandages. Bucky seemed perfectly healthy while Natasha still had some minor bruising around her neck where Brea nearly broke it earlier. All in all, they were still Bucky and Nat. Powerful, intimidating, and efficient as always.

And they were pissed, but not as much as Steve expected.

Each had a dark look in their eyes. Menacing and full of tortuous plans, plans that undoubtedly would end in Steve’s death. Yet, something was missing there. Steve straightened up, looking at them in a way only he could. He’s seen the worst of Bucky, seen him consumed by rage in every way possible. He stood by Bucky and helped him through the pain when he realized exactly what HYDRA had done to him. He was there when his mother died of cancer shortly afterwards. He helped him through his sister’s unfortunate car accident after they received the serum. He let Bucky use him as a punching bag when Bucky’s dad walked out on him and his family forever when they were kids. Every dark moment, every horrible and terrible occurrence, Steve’s been there for Bucky. Dealt with the pain, the anger, the betrayal, all of it. He’s been there.

And the look in those eyes was nothing close to those moments. There was malice, yes, but no hatred. None that Steve could see. No, instead there was heat. A heat that Steve’s only seen in small moments like the one they shared in Cartagena. A heat that does _not_ match the current atmosphere. There should be betrayal, heartbreak in those eyes, but Steve didn’t see them. What he saw didn’t match up either. Hope was in those blue eyes. Opportunity was there too. Steve found himself blinking, confused as can be.

Natasha stepped forward, a playful smirk on her coral lips. Joy brought light to her green eyes, brightening up her otherwise unreadable expression. A victorious gleam fueled each step she took. Her gaze landed on Pietro, her smirk growing into a full smile. The Omega stiffened as she came closer. Fists tightening up considerably.

“You need to go,” Pietro growled, preparing himself for a fight he would definitely lose.

Natasha let out a soft grunt in amusement. “Pietro. Nice to see you again-”

“Back away,” Pietro stepped forward, daring to get into her face. “And leave Violet alone.”

Natasha cocked her head, clearly enjoying this. “Get on your knees.”

“Eat a bullet,” Pietro retorted, refusing to back down.

In the blink of an eye, Natasha’s hand shot out and grabbed Pietro by the chin, abruptly pulling him forward and off balance. Her smile strained slightly, but the joy in her eyes remained untouched. “ **Get on your knees**.” She commanded, utilizing her full alpha tone.

Pietro dropped at her feet without a fight, and Natasha held onto his chin, still smiling.

“What are you-” Steve stepped forward, moving to act while attempting to tuck himself back into his pants when Bucky sprung into action. Rushing forward with a speed only Steve could follow, Bucky was suddenly right in front of him. Flesh hand reach out and grabbing him by the throat, metal hand smacking away his hands and grabbing hold his cock. Steve gasped at the contact or rather tried to. Bucky squeezed his throat tight, making it almost impossible to breathe. He struggled from the grip, but Bucky merely squeezed his cock, staring at Steve with an expression that clearly said, “I dare you to test me. Go ahead. Fucking test me.”

Steve stopped, focusing on trying not to suffocate.

Bucky nodded slightly, approving Steve’s decision, before tearing his gaze away and looking to Natasha.

“I’ll check this one,” she winked flirtatiously, “hopefully they both pass.”

“They will,” Bucky grunted.

Natasha smiled, wiggling her eyebrows at Steve before bending down to whisper to Pietro. Bucky pulled Steve away, lifting him by the throat and releasing his member, carrying him across the room before throwing Steve against the stone wall, shattering some of the mortar, and trapping him there. He released his throat, allowing Steve to catch his breath before abruptly covering mouth and bringing Steve’s gaze back onto him.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Bucky growled, jaw tense. “You’re my brother. One of the only people in this world I still give shit about. The only person who’s been there for me, with me since the very beginning. The only one who knows the man I used to be before the weapon I became. I’d die for you, I’d kill for you, I’d do anything for you man.”

Steve’s heart broke. Shattered into a million pieces. He couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Bucky, one of the toughest and coldest men Steve’s ever known, shed a tear. A single, solitary tear emerged in his left eyes, brightening the wonderful blue for the briefest of moments, and then with a blink fell onto his cheek and started trailing down. After all these years, all this time, Steve was the one to make his brother cry.

He deserved whatever torture this man gave him. He’ll take it without complaint. He shouldn’t have given in, should never have admitted the truth. He should have kept it to himself like Natasha or Clint would have done. They were right, the truth was a trap that led innocent, gullible people into a pit where they were judged and vilified for the rest of their days. He didn’t want to believe it, told them they were pessimistic and expected the worst, but they were right. He hated to admit it, but they were right. Didn’t mean he was going to change.

And now he’s going to pay for it.

“But right now, there’s something I need you to do for me,” Bucky growled, ignoring the tear like it wasn’t even there, but for Steve that was all he could see. “I need you to tell me something. Answer it honestly like you always do. Will you do that for me?”

Steve nodded, wanting to make this right. He’s lied enough.

Bucky stared at him, expression serious and stiff. He leaned in slightly, Steve could smell the cinnamon from his toothpaste on his breath. He pulled his hand away from Steve’s mouth, moving to thread his fingers into Steve’s hair.

Then Bucky whispered, “when you look into Violet’s eyes, what do you see?”

Steve blinked. “What?”

“You heard me,” Bucky growled, pulling Steve’s hair, “and don’t you fucking lie to me about it. Tell me the truth.”

Steve took a breath. Then another. And another. Should he tell Bucky? How much would it kill Bucky if he spoke the truth. How quickly would Steve die after the reveal? He took another breath, silently cursing himself.

“I see gold stars,” Steve swallowed around the lump in his throat, desperately gauging Bucky’s reaction. “Gold stars that sometimes stay very still. Steadfast and shining bright. Other times, when Violet’s mad or the adrenaline’s pumping, the whiz across her eyes like shooting stars.”

“On a purple sky?” Bucky whispered, blue gaze intense.

Steve shook his head, stating “Indigo, not generic purple,” before he could stop himself, and his heart dropped out of his chest. Fuck, he was dead now. There was no saving him–

Bucky grunted in amusement, causing Steve’s eyebrows to disappear into his hair. “You’re right.”

Steve blinked, staring at Bucky like he’s never seen the man before. Bucky continued as if Steve wasn’t having a mental breakdown right in front of him. “What about Brea? What do you see in her eyes?”

“Magenta,” Steve stated plainly, this time without fear or hesitation. “The color of a Chinese Fringe Flower if it were frozen in ice.”

Bucky hummed at that, his gaze softening the slightest bit. “One more question, and then I’ll explain why you’re not dead yet.”

“That would be nice,” Steve mumbled, his body relaxing immediately.

This time, Bucky took a breath, calming himself before addressing Steve completely. “Do you love her?”

“What?” Steve asked, voice filled with shock and awe.

“Do you love Violet?” Bucky reiterated, tone somehow gravelly and soft.

Did Steve love Violet? He thought on it, mulling over his earlier wants and desires while Pietro took care of his member. All the little fantasies that came to mind, the pictures he so desperately wanted to draw of her. He thought about the moments they shared, however brief and few they were.

He thought about first coming across her scent five years ago, how pleasant it smelled and how soft it made him feel. He thought it didn’t mean much since her scent caused both Bucky and Natasha to go into a rut right then, but it didn’t do the same to him. He thought he wasn’t meant to be part of that, even though her scent was the best thing he’s ever come across in his entire life.

He thought about the time he first saw her in person when he was standing guard outside of Peter’s wretched apartment complex. Remembered how dirty and unkempt she was before she managed to escape and squirrel Peter away as well. He thought about seeing her at Wanda’s home on Halloween, how cleaned up and beautiful she looked while smiling and laughing with her brother, all the while hiding the truth from him and remaining on her guard. She smelled even better than he could imagine.

He thought about that whole mess with Kilgrave. Rescuing Peter from that lecherous man’s grasp, dodging a bullet, only to look up and realize she was the one who pulled the trigger. She had a gun, a gun that was clearly loaded, and yet she didn’t use it on them. She could have used it to lay waste to them all, but she didn’t. She used it on the man who was hurting her brother before mocking his aim and passing out.

He thought about first coming to her aid with Wanda and Jarvis when she had that terrible nightmare, remembering how soft and innocent she appeared when holding onto Bucky like a lifeline. Remembering how disarmed he was by the sharp contrast of what he knew her to be and what she was in that moment.

He thought about the moment he first realized he wanted her. When Violet, exhausted and drugged, stunned Natasha in the neck and then bravely stood tall to fight all three of them. The fire in those starry eyes roaring like a wild flame threatening to consume him whole. He thought about the moment they took her up to the roof to cool her down, and the way she moaned when she touched the snow. The way she leaned into Bucky’s metal hand when he touched her face. He almost lost control right then and came in his pants.

The moment she stood tall and called them all hypocrites, annihilating their rules, and effectively exposing the flaws within them. The same moment she revealed her scar to them all and Bucky lost his shit. He remembered fighting for her, nearly losing his arm in the process. Remembered finding her in the hallway and ordering to leave him and escape, but she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t leave him, a man who helped his friends kidnap her and her brother in the first place. She wouldn’t leave until he forced her too.

He thought back to their conversation, their first and only conversation to date, in the kitchen while making a very tasty soup. She listened to him, spoke calmly and serenely with him, even ate due to his insistence. She treated him with respect, let him choose the music, and was comfortable enough to dance slightly in his presence. She asked him questions and paid rapt attention to his story. She didn’t berate him, didn’t scold him, and most importantly she didn’t pity him. She was just . . . herself. Not the loud, angry and bombastic self that comes when Peter’s in danger or someone or something pisses her off, but the kinder, steadier side that’s reserved for Peter and others she deems . . . not safe exactly but at least temporarily okay.

She was honest with him. Carried a conversation with him. She was kind when she didn’t need to be. She was willing to stay behind to help him when she should have been running. She’s selfless, awe-inspiring, and the best person Steve has ever met.

To answer the question, did he love her?

“Yes,” Steve whispered, staring unblinkingly in Bucky’s eyes. “I love her.”

Steve didn’t have time to ruminate on how Bucky could react when the Alpha suddenly nodded.

“She’s never going to be your Chosen,” Bucky stated firmly, but not harshly. “She’s mine and Natasha’s. Remember that.” Steve nodded, trying not let his heart drop further in his chest. “But if you follow our rules, do as we say in times of need, then you can be part of something just as good.”

“What’s that?” Steve asked, mind spiraling with sudden hope.

Bucky glanced behind him; Steve followed his gaze. Natasha was smiling, broader and brighter than before. She nodded to Bucky, petting Pietro’s hair as he nuzzled her thigh, clearly under the influence of her Alpha command. Steve looked at Pietro in concern, but Bucky suddenly turned back to him, eyes fueled with heat. With opportunity.

Bucky learned in close. “A pack,” he stated, the beginnings of a smile curling at the corner of his mouth, and then suddenly he released Steve’s hair and grabbed his dick with his flesh hand and pulled him away from the wall. Steve gasped, struggling to keep up so Bucky didn’t accidentally (on purpose) rip his dick off. Natasha chuckled, watching the Alphas advance as she stepped towards them, pulling Pietro by his hair. Worry escalated in Steve until he saw Pietro’s expression.

Ecstasy. Pure bliss on his handsome face. Eyes drooping, mouth open, tongue flicking out. When the Omega eyed Steve his hips bucked, and he smiled at the Alpha. He leaned forward until he was on his hands and knees, and with a wave of Natasha’s hand, he crawled forward to meet Steve and Bucky. Slowly. Sensually. Steve’s dick twitched in Bucky’s grasp.

“Packs can’t work with only one Omega. Even one as brave and wild as our Violet.” Bucky nodded to Natasha, who grinned in response.

Natasha leaned in close to Steve, placing a hand on his shoulder. “The only way we can sustain it is if we have two, and both need to be mated to at least one Alpha within the Pack.” She glanced down at Pietro, who was now right at their feet, moaning and thrusting and sucking his bottom lip, staring at Steve’s dick like a bull going after a red cape. “And he’ll belong to you, just as Violet belongs to James and I.”

“What did you do to him?” Steve demanded softly, hating how turned on he became as Pietro wiggled his hips once more.

“ **Enough** ,” Natasha commanded, using the Alpha tone once more. Instantly, Pietro stopped moving. Looking up at her shyly, waiting for the next command. “ **Sit and be quiet**.” He quickly followed suit, sitting on his feet in a kneeling position, head tilted down. Steve could see he was still sucking on his bottom lip and was pleased when Pietro glanced up through his bleached bangs to look at him.

“Don’t worry,” Natasha giggled, “I only encouraged what you brought forth already with your thick cock.”

“Stop this,” Steve stated, gasping at the sudden friction when Bucky started jerking him off. “He’s Violet’s friend.”

“We know,” Natasha turned to look at him, “but he passed the test Steve. Just like you did.”

“Test?” Steve huffed, fighting the pleasure Bucky gave him. He tried to grab Bucky’s hand, but was stopped by both Alpha’s when their free hands lashed out to grab and cage his own behind his back.

“The questions I asked you,” Bucky growled, picking up the pace as he continued jerking Steve off. “Only the pair of you could have passed them.”

“Because apart from us, only you two could know the truth.”

“Why us?” Steve grated, moaning soon after.

“Brea saw your true colors,” Bucky groaned, clearly not immune to the pleasure he was giving Steve, but other remained steady. “Both of yours. She smelled your true scent, something no one else has been able to too.”

“You did,” Steve retorted, surprised when Bucky shook his head.

“I never smelled the flower, barely got the ocean. All I ever smelled was the theme park food.” Bucky eyes darkened, but not with anger. Sadness.

“And if Brea sees it, smells it, then so can Violet.” Natasha concluded, smile dimming slightly. “This is the only way, Steve. The only way we can make this work.”

“True Mates are so rare in this world, and I don’t want any of us to get in the way.” Bucky stated firmly, squeezing his member, rolling his fingers around the tip. “She’s the most special person in this world, in our world. Evolved in ways we’ll never be, different in ways that astound and worry us to no end. It only makes sense she has more than one true mate. It’s only by luck that those mates are right here in this very room. Mates who know and trust one another beyond everything. Mates who will take care of her, be there for her in anyway she needs and desires, just like we have been and will be for each other.”

Natasha’s hand moved up from Steve’s shoulder to caress his cheek. “We need this Steve. Violet needs this.”

“She needs a pack,” Bucky grunted, picking up the pace even more.

A warmth started emerging in his belly. Orgasm beginning to build. He needed to think. Why couldn’t he think? He was always overthinking during sex. What was it about Bucky, Nat, and now Pietro that made him lose his mind and go where his dick took him?

Still, he was able to manage, “What if she doesn’t want it?”

“She will,” Natasha stated clearly, turning her attention back to Pietro. “ **Come forward. Please your Alpha**.”

Pietro followed with gusto, hands flying to grab Steve’s pants and pull them all the way down to his ankles. Steve tried to pull away, to stop this. Pietro wasn’t in his right mind, he was following Natasha’s Alpha command. This wasn’t his choice. Natasha moved to grab Steve’s other hand and keep them behind him after Bucky released it. His brother grabbed his jaw with his flesh hand, his metal hand grabbed the back of his head and forced Steve to look at him.

Pietro’s mouth just swallowed down Steve’s cock once more earning a raucous groan from them both when Bucky started talking once more.

“You need this Steve. I know you do.” Bucky eyes blazed as Steve quickly became lost to Pietro’s mouth. “Too long you’ve chosen the bottom of the barrel, the worst matches imaginable because you could never admit you wanted more. Peggy’s a great lady, but too independent. Too self-reliant. Too in love with her work and achievements to notice the truth about you. Sharon’s amazing, one hell of a worker and one of our most reliable assets, but it’s the same with her. Only difference is that she didn’t want to be with you in that way and told you herself. That’s why it ended well. She could admit to you what you couldn’t admit to yourself. Don’t even get me started on Darcy. Everyone knew from the moment you said, _Hi,_ it was going to be a shit show and look what happened. But this time was different. This time you did end it. You stopped it all, sent her away, and finally got rid of her. Tell me why.”

Steve’s breath came and went very fast. His hips were thrusting, Pietro gulping deeper and deeper until nose kept bumping his abs. “She hurt . . .”

“Yes Steve, admit it.” Bucky growled, leaning in closer. “Admit it. Who did she hurt?”

“V-Violet.”

“That’s right,” Bucky nodded, unsurprised. “And why are we doing this? Why are we making a pack?”

“To protect Violet.”

“That’s right. For Violet. It’s all for Violet. Who are going to protect for the rest of your days. Pietro and who?”

“Violet.” Steve moaned, getting very close.

“Who are you going to love for the rest of your days?”

“Violet and Pietro.” Steve groaned, happy to hear Pietro moan and nip his dick at his answer. Good. Pietro’s going to be his. He doesn’t want to start off their relationship on a bad note. He wants to please and love him too.

“Who’s the most important person in the world?”

“Violet,” Steve moaned, relieved when Pietro moaned too.

“Who’s my Chosen?”

“Violet.”

“Who’s Natasha’s Chosen?”

“Violet.”

“And who’s your chosen?” Bucky growled.

“Pietro,” Steve groaned, earning him a pleasurable claw sensation on his ass as Pietro suddenly pulled away from his dick with a drooling smile. “Damn right, and don’t you forget it.” Then he swallowed his dick back down, and Steve’s was almost gone.

“Say her name,” Bucky growled, “because from this point on your life will revolve around her. You’ll do everything, anything for her just as we’ve done for each other. Understand? Say her name.”

“Violet,” Steve whimpered, so close to cumming he couldn’t fucking stand it.

“Again.”

“Violet.” Steve groaned, almost there. Almost there.

“Again!” Bucky shouted, face almost touching Steve’s.

“Violet-”

“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!!!” Came a sudden shout, calling a halt to everything happening in the room.

All eyes went to the doorway.

Natasha emerged from behind Steve. “Oh shit.”

Bucky dropped his hands from Steve. “Fuck.”

Pietro stopped and turned towards the doorway, a shudder rolling through him like a bucket of ice water was just poured on him. “Oh my God. What am I doing?”

Steve looked at the doorway, and finally came. 

_Peter_

He knows he shouldn’t feel relaxed, not with everything that’s happened and how worried he is for his sister, but there’s no denying it. Peter felt relaxed, at ease in a way he hasn’t felt since he and Violet drank and conversed with the Guardians and company during those days where Tony, Mr. Barnes, and Ms. Romanoff let them be. He still had no clue what happened to them during that time, but he didn’t care enough to ask. No doubt it was something suspicious and something he’d rather not know. He wasn’t okay, he was far from okay, but he was calm. Comforted and almost peaceful within a very warm embrace.

Tony’s embrace.

They shouldn’t be doing this. Violet wouldn’t like it for several reasons, reasons that were completely justified and valid. Peter understood that, he wanted to respect that, but right now he just couldn’t. Only this morning did the pair set up an agreement stating what Tony was allowed and not allowed to do where Peter was concerned, yet all of that was thrown out the window when Brea showed up. Appeared out of nowhere like a raging storm destroying everything in her path. Including Peter’s sense. It’s the only explanation for what he was currently doing now. 

Lying beneath the warm and tempting body of Tony Stark who smelled too good as the Alpha sank the pair of them deeper into the soft mattress, kissing his jaw and running his hands up and down Peter’s sides was definitely not supposed to be happening. Tears were still on his face. Tears Tony took the initiative to lick away and replace with gentle kisses. He was still sobbing, crying uncontrollably for Violet, but instead of pushing the Alpha away and running to see his sister like he wanted more than anything, he grabbed Tony’s shirt and pulled him in closer. Wrapping his legs around the Alpha’s waist much to their mutual surprise. Escaping into the wonderful heat and safety Tony projected.

“It’s okay baby,” Tony murmured against Peter’s hot cheek, “we’ll get through this. She’s going to be fine. Doc’s looking her over, Wanda’s brother is watching her like a hawk, and she’s getting some much-needed rest after drinking with you and the Guardians all week. When she wakes up she’s going to be the Violet you know and love, the Violet whose going to shock me in the dick for being within five feet of you, and not by accident either,” Tony chuckled slightly, nose bumping against Peter’s, “though she might not think it, she’s safe Peter. You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

“I want to see her,” Peter cried, lips blubbering, “I want my sister.”

Tony nodded, reaching up to brush away a stray hair from Peter’s forehead. “I know baby. I can see that. I see how much you care about her, how devastated you are about this whole mess, but I can’t help but notice something else. Something you don’t realize you need right now.”

“I need her,” Peter whimpered, “I need Violet.”

“If that’s the case, why are holding onto me so tightly?” He glanced at Peter’s ironclad grip, patted Peter’s leg with his free hand. “Why aren’t you running for her right now?”

Peter released a sob, surprising himself once more when he tightened his grip instead of releasing it like he wanted. “I don’t know. I’m trying to.”

Tony shushed him, kissing Peter’s forehead. “The only thing you want is to be with Violet, anyone can see that,” the hand that patted Peter’s leg ran up to slide beneath the hem of his shirt, the calloused skin of Tony’s fingers scratching Peter’s exposed skin in admittedly tantalizing ways until it rest over Peter’s heart, “but that’s not what you need baby.”

He gasped at contact, but he didn’t pull away. He . . . leaned into it. Why was he leaning into it? The tears worsened. “What’s happening? Why am I acting like this?”

“Your whole world is coming down baby,” Tony whispered, pressing his lips back Peter’s cheeks to catch his tears, “when Omegas experience a shift like this, a shift that changes everything they’ve known and their entire outlook on life, they can’t handle it on their own. As strong as she is, even Violet wouldn’t be able to.”

“Handle what? What’s happening to me?”

“Nothing bad,” Tony insisted, “just a physical reaction to dealing with traumatic events. A reaction that makes an Omega cling and seek safety from their Alpha. It’s perfectly normal. Wanda and even Pietro would tell you the same.”

“I’ve never done this before.” Peter whimpered, pulling on Tony’s shift to bring the man closer to him. “Never acted like this.”

“Have you been through stuff like this before? Experience things that shake your world and leave you flailing about with nothing to catch you?” Tony whispered, leaning in close to Peter, nose skimming the edge of Peter’s jawline. Peter trembled beneath him.

“Violet catches me. She’s always there.” Peter quickly defended, inwardly cursing himself for how his voice shook. “Ever since we met, she was there. Every bad day I had she was there to comfort me, to remind me of all the good things in this world. Every good day I had she went out of her way to praise me and refused to let anything, or anyone bring me down. She’s always been there-”

“And I always will be,” interrupted a stern, grating voice that was both true to her brash character and out of tandem with her naturally warm tone.

Both Tony and Peter looked to the doorway. It was open. Tony must have forgotten to shut it when he entered the room. They gasped at the sight before them. Tony in fear, Peter in relief. Standing in the doorway with wild blue hair, a frightening gaze in her sky-blue eyes, and clenched fists that made her knuckles go white with a rather unhinged Pietro standing behind her was Violet. Fierce, protective, and very much aware, Violet stood with a strength only _she_ could possess. Stood in a way that made it clear that it was truly _her_ , not Brea, staring the pair of them down. Peter let out another sob, this one full of joy. Reprieve.

Violet’s here. She’s okay.

Immediately, Peter released Tony while the Alpha nearly catapulted himself off the bed and backed away to the other side of the room. Peter jumped forward, almost landing face first on the floor if he wasn’t caught by a strong set of arms that wrapped around him and pulled him close. He latched onto her, tighter and more securely than he latched onto Tony.

“Violet,” Peter whimpered into her shoulder, breathing in her calming scent like the lifeline she truly is to him.

“It’s okay Peter, I’m right here.” Violet whispered in his ear, squeezing him tight as they sank to the floor in unison. “Nothing’s going to hurt you. Not while I’m around.”

“I know,” Peter smiled against her neck. “I can always count on you.”

“Damn right,” Violet grated, pulling him impossibly closer. “Always.”

He felt her neck shift. Peter had no doubt she was giving Tony the scariest stank eye that ever existed. Pietro started mumbling in angry tone, words too quick to catch, and suddenly footsteps sounded before quickly disappearing. Peter smiled even more. This is Violet. She really is here. Not Brea. Violet. Peter relaxed even more, melting into her warm embrace like it was the most natural thing in the world. For Peter, it most certainly is.

Then a sharp, gravelly voice sounded behind them, and everything went wrong.

“Violet,” the voice grunted, stern and unyielding, and Violet flew to her feet.

“Get the fuck back!” She shouted, surprising Peter as she quickly maneuvered to stand in front of him and leaving him stranded on the floor. He leaned to the left, wondering who could have caused this reaction. Eyes popping wide. It was Natasha.

“Violet, you need to listen to me-” the Alpha started, but Violet quickly cut her off.

“No, you fucking piece of shit! I _don’t_ have to listen to you, and more importantly, I don’t want to! I don’t want to listen to you justify that bullshit when really you were just being a fucking rapist, forcing Pietro to do whatever that was against his will just to act out a perverted fantasy!”

“It wasn’t like that!”

“Oh! And after the thousand times I’ve heard Alpha scum use that excuse I’m supposed to believe you?!” Violet scoffed in disbelief.

“Yes,” Natasha stated boldly, cocking an eyebrow.

“And why the fuck should I?”

“Because we’re doing this for you,” Natasha stepped forward, causing Violet to tense up astronomically. A sharp “Nat!” emanated from the hallway a second later. It sounded angry. Incensed. Peter couldn’t see who said it, but it didn’t matter. Natasha ignored it, and so did Violet.

“Raping my friend? You really think that’s something I want done for me?”

“It’s not about what you want. It’s about what you need.”

Violet flinched. Peter couldn’t see her face, but he just knew what expression she was wearing. The _are you fucking kidding me_ expression that made him both laugh himself to tears and sent chills of fear down his spine. All the same if she wore that expression it either meant party night or fight club. Didn’t take a genius to figure out this was leaning towards the latter.

Peter suddenly reached out to grab her ankle with a soft touch and tried desperately not to flinch when she turned that angry gaze on him. An angry gaze that quickly softened at the sight. For a solid moment they stared at one another. Peter looking up at her with pleading eyes, wordlessly begging her to hold him. Violet looking down at him with worried eyes, taking in the full state of him like she was checking for bruises or any signs of mistreatment. She took a breath, shutting those sky-blue eyes momentarily as she desperately tried to calm down for him.

“I don’t know what happened with Brea, and personally I could live the rest of my life without knowing,” Violet started, opening her eyes and turning to face Natasha head on, “but whatever it was completely warped your fucking mind. And you know what? If you honestly believe I _need_ one of my best friends raped and violated by you fuckers, then you fucking deserved it.” She pulled away, grabbing the door in a white knuckle grip. “It’s funny. All of you keep saying I’m your Chosen, and that Chosens should be protected, cared for, and treated as a treasure or some bullshit. The most important person in your life, right?” She stopped suddenly, waiting for some sort of answer.

“Of course,” Natasha nodded slightly, and Violet continued.

“In return their purpose is to make you human, or at least feel human. Right?”

Natasha nodded once more, her gaze cold and intimidating. Peter cuddled up to Violet’s legs, desperately needing her strength right now. All his strength depleted when Brea went to sleep on the couch. Why else would he go along with Tony’s advances, no matter how enticing and comforting they felt. 

“Well here’s a little it of humanity for you, and by that, I mean human emotion.” Violet pointed to Pietro, who still looked pissed beyond imagining. “You hurt him, one of my best friends. Seeing him hurt and realizing what happened to him hurts me. Ergo, if all the bullshit you’ve been spewing about how much you care about me is actually real, then live with this.” She stepped forward, getting into Natasha’s face while keeping her grip on the door.

“You hurt my friend. My friend being hurt hurts me. Ergo, _you_ hurt _me_.”

Peter barely saw the change in Natasha’s face when Violet abruptly stepped back and slammed the door shut, followed by Pietro quickly moving in and locking it in place. The cold, intimidating gaze softened. Her eyes had widened. Peter wasn’t a betting man, not with anything important and useful anyway, but he’d bet anything to prove that the briefest flash of pain went through those eyes before Violet completely shut them out.

There was a moment of silence. Nobody moved. Nobody breathed. Utter stillness, empty noise from the wind roaring outside. Calm and almost stagnant.

Then Pietro turned towards Violet, the angry expression he previously wore now completely gone, and he smiled at her. “Still a badass.”

Then all three of them laughed, and everything was okay.

For now.

_Logan_

Normally Logan hated pitstops, but for once he found he didn’t mind it.

He, Frank, and unfortunately Deadpool had taken off after Charles rather unexpected confession concerning Violet and her true parentage. Frank was surly and brooding as he normally was, taking the driver’s seat in his truck as they jetted off. Logan, who was just as surly but significantly angrier than Frank appeared, took shotgun. Deadpool, annoying and talking nonstop about the randomest shit, was having the time of his life in the bed of the truck. Together, the three raced away from Rochester and aimed for the city to grab Scott, his crew, and then search for the blind lawyer and pissed off cop.

The trip was silent, apart from Wade’s incessant yammering and off-key singing Dolly Parton’s “9 to 5” repeatedly. Logan tried not to think about anything but couldn’t erase the sheer embarrassment from not realizing The Professor was keeping something that big to himself. Normally he’s pretty spot on when it comes to people lying to him or holding something back. Turns out even he’s infallible. It was impossible to tell where Frank’s head was at, and Logan didn’t dare try. If his mind was a pit of confusion and embarrassment, Frank’s undoubtedly was much the same.

Wade’s was a crater filled with madness and pornography, but that’s a different story.

Frank and Logan wanted to drive nonstop, hoping to make it to the city within a few hours keeping their fast pace steady, but almost running out of gas and Deadpool’s singing forced them to stop at a shady gas station in the middle of nowhere. Wade stayed in the bed of the truck intent on making lewd noises to drive off intruders while Frank filled the tank with gas and Logan went inside to get drinks and snacks for the road.

The universe must be taking pity on him because low and behold, the moment he opened that door he walked in on a robbery in progress. The store owner, an elderly woman with a tired expression, was sitting nonchalantly with her hands held up slightly while the gunman, a teenager wearing pantie hose over his head, shakily pointed a 45 at her head, and stuttered, “give me all your money.” Upon entering, the teenager pointed the gun at Logan, taking the safety off and adjusting his stance.

“Walk away if you want to live.”

Well, there’s nothing that clears the mind more than knocking out a dumb teenager.

Five minutes later, Logan was walking back with a free six pack of beer, a twelve pack of coke, a box full of a random assortment of snacks, and the 45 (beer was free, he had to pay for the rest). Frank was leaning against the front of the truck, eyeing Logan suspiciously.

“What you took you?”

“Dumb kid looking to steal,” Logan shrugged, “Got free beer out of it though.”

“Where’s the kid now?” Frank grated.

“Sleeping in the lady’s dumpster out back.” Logan answered brusquely, handing over the supplies.

Frank nodded, “alright. Let’s load this shit, grab our boy, and then find Murdock and Wilson.”

Then they loaded back up and continued their journey without another word. Settling for drinking beer, eating their snacks, and ignoring Wade as they pondered the future with increasing doubt.

_Violet_

“How long has Brea been . . . Brea?” Peter asked shyly, face nuzzling the inside of her neck as his body shifted impossibly closer to hers.

Violet and Peter were laying on Peter’s bed while Pietro sat at the edge, bristling with rage though Peter didn’t understand why. The same bed he’d been sitting and staring in silence for most of the day whilst waiting for news on his sister. Waiting and wondering if she was truly okay or if the soft reassurances were nothing more than veiled lies given to make him feel better. He was relieved it was the former, borderline ecstatic and elated that she really is here. Talking to him, holding him, protecting him as she always does. He basked in her warmth, sinking deep and hoping it would completely envelope him in the peaceful sleep he so desperately needs, but the sleep could wait. Answers are what he needed more.

Answers Violet was terrified to give him.

“You mean how long since I first slipped into my psycho persona and impersonated Chucky?” Violet quipped in light tone, but there was no light in her eyes. What normally held determination and firm resolve now showed dread and acceptance.

The fact that he was clinging to her like a baby chimp to his mother meant the world to Violet. He was still so scared, so frightened of what he saw, but he wasn’t afraid of her. Not of Violet. The thought made her want to smile, but she didn’t. Yes, he didn’t seem to be afraid of _her_ , but he was of Brea. She could tell by the way his voice shook in his question. The part of herself Violet has tried so hard to keep locked away. Not just the minor reverts she’s had since her Dad died, the ones where she wakes up from a nightmare and cries out for him, but the full amalgamation that would give anyone nightmares. The horrible result from Violet’s two-week blackout. The blackout that left her with a brand she had no recollection of, a brush with HYDRA, an everchanging nightmare that never ceased in its torment of Violet, and now this. Brea.

The thing that drove her sweet and wonderful brother into the arms of the man who kidnapped him, drugged him, and attempted to mate him against his will. Not so different from what she just walked in on with Pietro. God, they were going to need a lot of drinks to deal with this mess.

The sight of Peter curling up with Tony, watching him cling to the Alpha in search of comfort _she_ normally provided him, had to be one of the worst things Violet has ever seen. For so long she’s tried her best to look out for him, to protect him from manipulative Alphas like Tony and Kilgrave. Horrible Alphas like Bucky and Natasha and the wretched things they’ve done, including shit they just did not 10 minutes ago. Doesn’t matter that they’ve been showing their good side, if one can even call it that, in their poor ass attempts in _courting_ her. What a joke. They were still terrible, evidenced by today, just like Tony was still manipulative. Violet wasn’t sure what to make of everyone else, particularly Steve, but she’s sure about them. They were not people Peter and Violet could or should find comfort in.

Yet that’s exactly what was happening when she walked through the door.

Funny thing is, seeing Peter cling to Tony wasn’t the worst part of it. Seeing Tony kiss and lick her brother’s face wasn’t what brought her dread, though it did seriously piss her off. Numerous plans of what she wanted to do to that piece of shit Alpha kept coming to mind, forcing her to bat them away albeit reluctantly. Some of them were kind of funny. Reminded her of plans Mr. Fred and George Weasley from the Harry Potter Universe would do to the likes of Umbridge given the chance. Unfortunately, now was not the time to fixate on them.

 _Later_ , she promised herself.

On top of all that, this whole situation with the news of her brother, Betty’s involvement, the stupid “Chosen Protocol”, being kidnapped and illegally transported across the ocean like meaningless cargo, her strange DNA and all the problems that have arisen from it, walking in on that perverted sex thing and getting Pietro out of there with the closing line, “Next time you assholes want to act out a perverted fantasy, make sure all participants are willing, and close the fucking door!” Then everything else weighing her down all at once wasn’t what threatened to break her.

What hit her the hardest out of everything was the realization that what she walked in on with Peter and Tony, along with Pietro and unwelcome company, would be their future if they gave up now. If she broke down, if she _and_ Peter _and_ Pietro broke down and let all this bullshit beat them into submission, then this is what’s waiting for them. Used for sexual means, manipulated into thinking it was all okay and nothing to worry about. Kept in the dark like precious toys only to be taken out for special occasions before being tucked away once more until the next special occasion.

No fucking way.

Peter might be a sub, something Violet’s still not entirely familiar with due to her blatant aversion of sex, and Pietro might be very pro-sex but they’re not someone’s fucking toy and certainly not a fuck toy. They’re goddamn human beings and deserve to be treated as such.

And once all this new bullshit is handled, or at least averted, Violet’s going to make sure they know that. Loud and clear.

“Don’t say that,” Peter scolded lightly, flicking her collarbone in a half-hearted tease. “You’re not psycho.”

“So says the guy who once compared me to Mrs. Lovett from Sweeney Todd,” Violet quipped, running a hand through his hair in a reassuring way.

“Yeah because she’s kind of a badass beneath all the craziness. You though, you’re just a pure badass.” Peter complimented with a smile. Pietro quickly chimed in, _I second that_ , halfheartedly. “The only craziness you have comes from your reckless stunts like speeding through lunch time traffic in the middle of Manhattan or trying to fly a plane in the middle of a blizzard.”

Violet chuckled at that. “To be fair, the blizzard was just starting.”

“And you were outrunning Mr. Barnes, The Winter Soldier of all people!”

“Yeah,” Violet nodded, “might have given him a run for his money too if the blizzard had waited a few minutes.”

“And if my heat hadn’t started up,” Peter mumbled, tucking his head deeper into the crook of her neck.

“Hey, none of that.” Violet squeezed him tightly, “you didn’t decide to start your heat anymore than I decided to get us kidnapped by Kilgrave and his goons. Okay? Shit happens sometimes, shit we can’t control, and all we can do is what we’re able to and hope for the best outcome. Alright? Don’t beat yourself up over that.”

Peter didn’t answer right away, and Violet didn’t press. That was the last thing Peter needed right now. What he needed was time, patience, and support after experiencing Brea for the first time. Violet knows that better than anyone from helping Omegas and Betas over the past few years. She knows what’ll happen when someone pushes another before they’re ready. At best they’ll push back and retaliate against the one who’s dares to push them, at worst they’ll retreat into their pain and do something to hurt themselves. Violet doesn’t want that to happen to Peter, so silence and comfort is the way she’ll go.

Meanwhile, Pietro turned back to face the pair abruptly, cocking an eyebrow curiously. Violet shrugged in response. “Tell you all about it over drinks?”

“No Alphas?”

“No alphas,” Violet reassured, watching him warily.

Pietro nodded, “over drinks.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” She asked gently, not wanting to push him either.

He looked at Peter and shook his head. “Over drinks. Make sure there’s a bucket.”

“Will do,” Violet nodded. Pietro is certainly the type that shouldn’t be pushed. He always put on a strong front, presented himself to be sarcastic and arrogant, but deep down he’s a sensitive soul. It’s why he’s a paramedic and helps abused Omegas when he can. He’s got a good heart. He just doesn’t let anyone see it. Not without a fight. If he says he doesn’t want to talk about it, then that’s it. No discussion.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Peter mumbled suddenly, sniffling as he pulled away slightly. “When Brea was there, and everything was happening, I didn’t know what to do.”

“That’s okay,” Violet murmured, heart caving in as she gently rubbed his shoulder, “it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“But I am ashamed,” Peter insisted, tone firm. “I’m ashamed for not being a better brother.”

Violet scoffed, shaking her head slightly, “If a genie came up to me, granted me three wishes with an absolute guarantee there would be no consequences, and I wished for the kindest, smartest, and most wonderful brother in the entire multiverse, they wouldn’t measure up to half the brother you are. Truly, they would pale in comparison to your sheer brilliance.”

Peter’s bottom lip puffed out in a pout, “I think you got us mixed up. You’re the brilliant one.”

“Hear, hear,” Pietro quipped, giving Violet a small smile.

Violet rolled her eyes. “Says the guy who’s nearly done creating his own A.I. that could potentially rival the renowned FRIDAY who was created by an asshole of a genius and currently monitoring us as we speak to the girl you had to explain what the words coding and hacking meant five times in the span of ten minutes.” Violet shot back, cocking an eyebrow.

Peter blinked, mulling over her statement, then shrugged. “Okay, science stuff isn’t your forte.”

“That’s an understatement,” Pietro laughed, and Violet joined in after a moment.

Peter shook his head, “But you’re incredibly smart in other things. Especially when the pressure’s on and everything’s falling apart. Like when Betty went into labor, FRIDAY went into protection mode, and invaders got into the tower all while you were drugged by someone you trusted. You handled everything. Got Wanda to help Betty, got me to the control room, and helped me figure out how to get the Avengers back in the tower. And before you say anything, no I wouldn’t have been able to figure out how to get them inside without you because I was looking in the wrong place at the time.”

“What the Hell happened to you guys?” Pietro demanded.

“Later,” Violet promised while hiding the sharp flinches that threatened to roll through her body at the sound of that woman’s name before shrugging indifferently and addressing Peter. “Maybe, but it hasn’t always been that way. To be fair to Darcy, I didn’t mind it. She’s done it before and honestly part of me was almost expecting it because of our past . . . encounters.” She grimaced suddenly, earning a surprisingly sharp look from Peter who sat up completely and crossed his arms at her. “Which will not be happening again anytime soon,” she quickly interjected, raising her hands slightly in defeat.

“It better not.” Peter grumbled, easing his tense posture. “I’m not going to lie; I did have a lot of fun that night before everything happened. I can see why you liked being around her. She can be a lot of fun, and we were able to let out some steam after being kidnapped and you were shot, all the fear and adrenaline mounting up over those few days. I see the appeal, but that’s not long-term friendship.”

Violet nodded, sitting up and crossing her legs beneath her, “I know. It’s part of the reason we only ever hung out once, maybe twice a year, and when we did it was only for a few days because any longer would definitely put us, or someone else, in jail or an early grave. I could see what we were doing, and where it was going to take us, so I tried to put a stop to it before it got to that point while still helping her as much as I could.” She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck in frustration, “in the end I suppose it didn’t matter. What with her being stuck here with the Avengers and then thrown into a facility like trash once her _usefulness_ ran out. Apparently, she was never officially made a chosen which is why it was so easy to discard her.”

“Tony said they sent her to live elsewhere with bottles of wine to keep her company for the rest of her days.” Peter dropped his arms, eyeing her carefully. “He didn’t mention a facility. Just a safe house of some sorts.”

“I’m gonna guess he didn’t fill you in on her being arrested, discredited, and made out to be an alcoholic nutcase with a forged history of delusional behavior either. Right?” Violet shook her head, frustration growing at Peter’s nod. “Not surprised.”

“All of that because Darcy drugged you?” Peter questioned, biting his bottom lip. “How do you know about it?”

“Bucky and Natasha told me before they sedated me,” Violet blinked, comprehension dawning on her, “then again maybe we’re both wrong. Maybe we were both lied too and Darcy’s really dead after all.”

“Do you really think so?”

Violet took a breath, glaring at the puffy white comforter. “No, I don’t.”

“Why?” Pietro cut in, gaze harsh and full of rage.

Violet shook her head, glancing Pietro warily while shifting to a more comfortable position on the bed, “the way the conversation went. They wanted to talk to me, get to know me I suppose. A quid pro quo type of situation. You know? I ask a question, they answer honestly. They ask me a question; I answer back the same. Back and forth. Back and forth. The flow of the conversation didn’t change; the atmosphere of the room remained as it was. Everything was going fine until the truth bomb about my brother hit and . . .” she glared at the comforter once more, stretching her back slightly, “next thing I knew I was out and back to that stupid nightmare that won’t stop coming.”

“The junkyard one?” Peter asked carefully, keeping his tone gentle as he could.

Violet nodded, looking at him in surprise. “I told you about it?”

“I-I overheard you talking to Pietro about it once or twice.” Peter shrugged, looking rather ashamed as he hunched over. “You never went into detail about what happened in it other than racing towards the junkyard and hiding in a car. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think you’d want me to know-”

“And because you didn’t want to know why I thought hiding in a car was so scary?” The corner of Violet’s mouth perked, but otherwise possessed an unreadable expression. Her smile grew slightly at his shameful nod. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. If the situation were reversed, I’d more or less do the same.”

Peter chuckled, “no you wouldn’t. You’d tell me right away that you knew something was wrong, that you overheard me talking about it or experiencing it, all before reassuring me that I didn’t have to talk about it unless I wanted too. Then you’d give me space and leave me in absolute wonder at how awesome you are, and how lucky I am that you’re in my life.”

Violet rolled her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief. “It’s hard for me to believe that after what . . . happened. You know? After you saw me li-like that . . . saw me as Brea. Saw me doing – fuck, God only knows what.”

“That wasn’t you,” Peter cut in firmly, straightening his back slightly, eyes widening in surprise.

Violet exhaled sharply. “Peter, Brea is me. We share the same body, the same mind. Same . . . whatever else there is-”

“Brea is not you. She’s the furthest thing from you,” Pietro stated suddenly, shifting and moving to kneel on the bed directly in front of Violet. Grabbing her hands, staring directly into her eyes. “Brea’s chaotic, erratic, and has the attention span of a goldfish. If there was ever a physical manifestation of _glee_ it’d be her. You’re reckless, yes, but not without reason. You’re steady and strong where she’s lethal and off kilter, bold and safe where she’s maniacal and violent. She’s the Hyde to your Dr. Jekyll. She’s the shadow the resides within the light you create.” Pietro paused to take a breath, those cold silvery blue eyes widening slightly as his expression shifted slightly. Pleading to her. “You’re not her Violet, and she’s certainly not you.”

Peter moved to sit next to Pietro, those warm chocolate eyes taking in hers. “I knew she wouldn’t hurt me.”

Violet bit her lip but forced herself not to roll her eyes. “Pietro I’m aware of some of the shit she’s pulled, bad shit I doubt you, Peter, saw this morning with how calm you are right now. Shit that landed people in the hospital for weeks, months on end. Shit that I keep waiting to appear in my nightmares, though it never does. Shit that doesn’t excuse me because it was my hands that did it. My face that smiled at the pain that was caused. My laughter as they screamed.” Her chest ached, chills running up and down her spine, cold sweat from their palms. She took a breath, willing Peter to see reason. “How can you possibly know she wouldn’t hurt you after whatever happened this morning?”

“Because she couldn’t stand the thought of hurting someone you love.” Peter moved forward once more, tightening his grasp, smiling slightly. “Every time I mentioned you, she backed down. She talked about you like you were her whole world, the only person that really matters to her.” He laughed suddenly, shaking his head. “She totally tattled on you. Told me that you hated the final season of Games of Thrones.”

Violet’s eyes widened, the pain in her chest and body momentarily forgotten, “Oh God. She didn’t tell you what happened, did she?”

“No,” Peter chuckled, “I stopped her after she told me you had a crush on someone from the show. Something you neglected to tell me.”

Violet shrugged, “it happened in the eighth season. Wasn’t much to tell you about since you haven’t made it passed _The Garden of Bones_ in season 2.”

“I’ll get there when I get there,” Peter mumbled.

“And I’ll tell you who it is _if_ you do,” Violet winked halfheartedly.

“Deal,” Peter winked back much more enthusiastically. “She also mentioned you have a crush on Pietro.”

Violet reared back slightly. “I do not!”

Pietro gasped, “Oh Cher, you’re breaking my heart.” He placed a hand over his chest, expression full of faux sorrow. “Saving me from the advances of deviants only to say something so cruel to me. What have I done to deserve such scorn from you, my dearest and most cherished friend?”

Peter grinned, “she said you were blind to it because you don’t focus on your emotions very much.”

“Of all the things she has to be, she had to be a blabbermouth?” Violet shook a head, a small smile melting away as she began to blush. “She must be stopped.”

“I agree, it’s not right to divulge secrets that are not your own to share, even if you’re privy to them.”

Violet blinked, mulling over his statement. “I think that’s biggest difference between the pair of us.”

“Fuck no,” Pietro cut in, dropping the fake sorrowful expression. “The biggest difference is she’s insane and a full-fledged psychopath while you’re just crazy and reckless.”

Violet snorted, “Thanks,” while Peter’s forehead crinkled. “What do you mean?”

Violet straightened up, ignoring the pain in her body as she did. “Right and wrong. I don’t think she knows what it means.”

“And you always know the right thing to do,” Peter nodded, seemingly understanding where Violet was coming from.

She sighed, pondering what to do next. Peter seemed . . . not accepting of Brea, but Violet felt he was a bit too blasé about her. Maybe Brea didn’t show her full colors enough to really show Peter how awful she can be? Violet never had any recollections of Brea’s in the real world, only waking up in the aftermath covered in blood and Pietro’s mournful look in his eyes. Brea was not something to be taken lightly, and yet Peter seemed content. Maybe he is okay with it? Violet doubted that. More than likely he was just pushing through this as quickly and succinctly as he could because he didn’t know how to deal with it. Latching onto Violet and how she was here with him now instead of focusing on the reality that was Brea. That was okay. Focus on the here and now until better prepared to deal with it at a later time. Violet can roll with that; she can understand that, but she knew they wouldn’t be able to avoid it forever. Brea was going to make another appearance before long if shit kept hitting the fan, and they needed to deal with this before that happened.

But right now, Violet needed to deal with something more pressing.

“Well,” she cleared her throat, rolling her shoulders to ease the sudden tension, “not always.”

Peter cocked his head. “Of course you do-”

“Peter,” Violet interrupted, taking a deep breath. “There’s more I need to talk to you about today. More than just Brea and how you’re handling that.”

“What is it? What’s wrong?” He asked softly, expression becoming increasingly worried as he did.

“It’s about Betty, your teacher friend.” She stated gently but stopped when Peter suddenly got angry.

“Betty showed her true colors today,” Peter growled. Growled. Violet’s eyes widened considerably at that, Pietro reared back in surprise. _What hell?_ He mumbled to Violet, who shrugged in response. “She said horrible things about you, about me. Said a good Omega is only someone who completely submits to their Alpha and waits on their every whim and need no matter how embarrassing and humiliating it is.” He shook his head back and forth in agitation. “I never expected that from her, never thought such prejudice could come out of someone like that. She was always so kind and supportive of me, encouraged me when I felt down, and then to hear her say those things . . . I feel like an idiot for not seeing it.”

Violet squeezed his hands, bringing his attention back to her. “Not everyone is as open and honest as you. Not everyone is going to treat you as you do them. There are people in this world who manipulate others to get what they want. People who are willing to do whatever it takes to achieve their goals. That doesn’t necessarily make them bad, just driven. People like that tend to play their cards close to the chest, refusing to let anyone see who they really are and figure out their true intentions. People like that train themselves to fool the most inquisitive and intuitive of people.” She paused, releasing Peter’s hands to place them on his shoulders. “You’re not an idiot for not seeing past her veil. She’s had years of practice at deceiving others.”

“How would you know that?” Peter sniffled, eyes switching back and forth between hers.

Violet sighed, pulling away to grab the Stark Pad at the edge of the bed near Pietro.

 _Now or never_ , she thought to herself.

“You both need to watch this.” 

_Scott_

This isn’t the first time Scott was outsmarted by techno garbage, and he strongly doubted it would be the last. However, this is the first time it landed him in a jail cell. It was a strange feeling. Caught by an invisible entity, beaten down and chained up by robots, and then arrested by police who were in the Avengers pockets. Human police that Scott and the X-Men were fighting to free from the Avengers tyranny. Ridiculous. Shameful. Scott was better than this, his team was better than this, yet here they were. Stuck in jail, waiting for the monsters inhabiting that tower to emerge and rip them all to shreds.

They needed to get out. Fast.

The group shared a cell together. Ororo and Jean took residence on the beds, laying out and resting while pondering their situation in silence. John, or Pyro as he preferred to be called, stood at the bars with his hands poking through them, glaring at the hallway with a look of cruel malice. Yuriko stood next to him, but her back faced the hallway, and her cold gaze was aimed at the sliver of window at the top of the room above Jean’s bed. Scott squatted at the corner of the cell. Hands clasped, elbows resting on his knees, teeth grinding at their increasingly bad situation.

They tried to get in contact with Charles, with Erik, with Logan, and even with Deadpool. None had answered. None have showed up to spring them. For days, the group has been detained, and they have no way to get out of this place. All their equipment was taken, their weapons confiscated, and even their clothes were no exception. They were fed through a small hatch at the bottom of the cage. An entire swat team arrived to take them to the showers. There was a toilet in the cell so bathroom breaks wouldn’t be used as an excuse. Guards took point at each entrance around the clock. All the bases were covered, and they were stuck.

The group didn’t talk much. They were a great team, worked together extremely well, but they weren’t friends. Apart from Jean and Scott who were happily mated and currently expecting, the group was made up of acquaintances, the equivalent of work colleagues. Scott earned their respect and trust due to consistent leadership in missions and such, but outside the workplace most of them went their own way. Perhaps that’s why this team was considered the elite, the most reliable out of all the teams. They weren’t friends, they weren’t family, they were simply colleagues. Pyro was a tag along, not a focal part, but he worked well with them too. When this team sets out for a mission it’s a guarantee it’ll be done perfectly.

Until they attempted to invade Avengers Tower.

Scott grinded his teeth at the memory. They shouldn’t have gone in, he knew that, but they couldn’t wait for Logan to bring Frank in anymore. Time was running out; the captured Omegas time was running out. Scott assumed they were already mated and bred, the Avengers weren’t the type to take and let alone. They would take and take and take until there was nothing left of those Omegas to resemble any semblance of sanity. They were monsters, and it was only a matter of time before those Omegas became just as warped and twisted as them. Scott couldn’t have that, and neither could Jean.

She was 12 weeks along, but nothing was going to stop Jean from going forth and save those two from the Avengers grasp. Tony Stark is a formidable force, and the boy was surely in for a terrible time, but it was the girl she was most worried for. Scott was worried most for her too. The Black Widow and the Winter Soldier were the most lethal and deplorable pairing in existence. They murdered for sport, tortured for pleasure, and while that girl seemed to have a willful look in her eyes in those pictures with that boy, Scott doubted she could keep them at bay.

Scott remembered those pictures, remembered perusing them and smiling at the pair. Remembered frowning when the girl died her curly red hair blue. Her red was beautiful. Why change it to such an unflattering color that made her look sick and emaciated? He felt a strange connection to her, a connection he couldn’t explain and didn’t deign to understand. She was an Omega in trouble, a special Omega with two scent glands who needed all the help in the world. Omegas were already such weak creatures, and taking in the state of her body alone, Scott deemed that she appeared to be the weakest of them all.

Those eyes though, a sky blue that seemed all too familiar for reasons he couldn’t pinpoint, told another story. Those eyes spoke of an unbreakable will. Spoke of hidden depths Scott has never seen in an Omega before and doubted he’d ever see again. Those eyes revealed a strength he never thought he’d see in something so fragile and weak, yet there it was in those sky-blue eyes. Strength. Defiance. Resolve. All of that was there, and Scott felt like maybe she didn’t need as much protection as he originally thought.

It was a foolish notion. An Omega who doesn’t need protection? Scott almost laughed.

It was around three days they were forced to convene here in this cell. Three days they waited for something, anything to spring them free. Three days they pondered and stewed. Three days, and after all that wait there was nothing.

Until now.

Down the hallway towards the office area in the cell block, there was a commotion. It started small as it normally does. Raised voices and minor thuds. Then came the gunshots. Screams. Sheer panic filling the air. Scott jumped to his feet, grabbed the back of Pyro’s jumpsuit and pulled him away from the bars. Yuriko quickly followed, aiming towards the beds where Ororo and Jean quickly sprung into action. They huddled away from the doors as the sounds grew louder, bolder, and became infinitely more dangerous. Scott stood in front of the group, acting as a shield for the inevitable. Jean grabbed his arm, showing her support.

More panic, more screams, more bullets flying. They were right outside the hallway, not far from their cell. Scott stiffened, taking deep breaths. The Avengers were here. Now is not the time to cower. The swat members suddenly came into view, aiming their guns towards the incoming threat. One by one they were all struck down in a manner of seconds. Now they lay dead on the floor, one body stacked on top of another. Scott gritted his teeth, pushing his team back behind him.

Silence. Nothing but their own labored breathing could be heard. No movements apart from the rise and fall of their chests. Nothing. What was happening? Why were the Avengers waiting? They had Scott and his crew right where they wanted them, so why not kill them? Was this a game? A ploy to fuck with them? Scott wouldn’t put it past them, their tendency to indulge in unnatural delights was one of the few things known about The Avengers. Along with their cruelty and power.

Footsteps. Scott heard footsteps coming down the hallway. Slow and purposeful. Step. Step. Step. Suddenly, a man came into view. A single man wearing an expensive but plain looking navy blue suit walked confidently in front of their cell and stared directly at Scott. If there was one Scott could tell about the man, it was the he wasn’t one of the Avengers. He was older, blonde hair graying and thin. Deep lines of age gave the man a near permanent “tired” expression, but his eyes told another story. They weren’t fatigued, they were alert. Attentive. He smirked at the sight of Scott, and those eyes revealed something worse.

Coldness. Malice. Sickening joy. Scott flinched at the change, and again when the man smirked, revealing a savage cruelty in that tired expression.

This man was something else.

“Who are you?” Scott stated clearly, confidently. _Show no fear_ , he thought to himself.

The man smirked, straightening out his cufflinks and taking a step closer. “My name is Alexander Pierce, I’m the Head of S.H.I.E.L.D. and I’m here to ask for your help.”

“What kind of help could we provide you?” Scott shot back, ignoring the sharp squeeze Jean gave him for his stern tone.

The man’s smirk grew. “Why, taking out the Avengers, of course.”

(Violet slams the door in her face)

(looking at Violet in the doorway)

(talking with Violet and Peter)

(Listening to Violet)

.

.

.

.

.

And here is the closest depiction of Violet I can get.

.

.

.

.

.

(Laughing with Pietro and Peter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun Dun Dun!!! Pierce has officially arrived! Where are Matt and Sam? What is Peter and Pietro's reaction to the video? How do you think Natasha's dealing with Violet's harsh truth? What is Violet going to do about Betty? What are Frank and the crew going to do when they Scott not in jail anymore? So many questions! XD By the way, I might (keyword MIGHT) post a bonus chapter covering Peter and Pietro's reaction to the video because I just couldn't fit it in here. It was already too long guys XD. I'm sorry! I tried and it just wouldn't work. Still, I'll try working on it and either it'll be morphed with the other chapter, stand as a bonus, or just not do it all. Depends on how much of a headache it gives me XD.
> 
> I really hope you guys liked it! I hope it was worth the wait! I promise I'll try to post more often if life lets me. You have been so amazingly patiently and I truly appreciate all of you! THANK YOU! And always, leave me a comment and let me know your thoughts! I love reading them!
> 
> Stay safe out there and look out for another! :D


	25. Reactions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reacting to something terrible, and then something else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what to say other than I appreciate all of you! You're so amazing and awesome and I'm so grateful you've stuck to this story for this long! Thank you so much!!! This chapter is rough so if there is anything in here that doesn't make sense please let me know and I will do my best to fix it. Thank you again!

Chapter 24

Reactions

_Violet_

“That bitch has got to die,” Pietro growled, pacing back and forth in front of the bed.

“I’m so blind,” Peter mumbled, staring off into space as he leaned against the headboard cuddling a pillow, bottom lip trembling. “How did I not see this?”

“No one’s going to die,” Violet shot back at Pietro, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed with her elbows resting against her knees, blue hair flopping this way and that. “And Peter she fooled everybody. Not just you. Take a breath. It’s going to be fine. We’re going to figure this out.”

“Fuck that shit,” Pietro increased his pacing, shaking his head back and forth as he inched closer towards the door with every turn of his heel. Bleached hair falling into his eyes, too agitated to move it. “The only thing we need to figure out is how to kill her without leaving a trace.”

“Pietro!” Violet shouted, causing Pietro to stop mid-step to look at her. “We’re not killing anybody. That isn’t us.”

“She ruined your life, Violet!” Pietro stalked towards her, and though his teeth were bared and his body was fueled with overwhelming rage, in no way did she feel threatened by him.

“Do you think I don’t know that?!” Violet jumped off the bed, getting into Pietro’s face. “I can’t fucking stop thinking about it! Thinking about all the things that might have gone differently in my life if she hadn’t done this bullshit! Thinking about what would have happened if Billy had survived and we escaped this life together! Thinking about how Peter would have turned out, if even he lived at all! Thinking about Wanda and you, and whether the pair of you would be dead or locked in cages, forced to please that abusive dickhead for the rest of your lives! I fucking hate that she did this, and she deserves to be punished for it, but I can’t just ignore all that’s come out of it!”

“All that stuff happened because of _you_ , not her!” Pietro shouted, jabbing a finger towards the stark pad where the video was paused on Billy’s horrified face.

“Stuff that never would have happened if we hadn’t met!” Violet shot back, fingers clenching the empty air, stopping herself from reaching out and grabbing Pietro’s shoulders. He’d been touched against his will enough today; she’s not going to add to it. “Do you really think I would have helped create an Omega House if you and Wanda hadn’t asked me to? Do you really think I’d spend my nights searching the streets for hurt Omegas and helping them find shelter if you hadn’t inspired me to do so? Do you really think I would have bothered finishing High School if Peter and Jessica hadn’t dared me too?” She stopped, taking a breath. “So many things I can’t even think of right not wouldn’t have happened if it hadn’t been for you, for Peter, for Wanda, for the crew at home that’s worried shitless about you guys right now. So many things we would have missed out on, so many good moments wouldn’t exist, if Betty hadn’t been a selfish fucking bitch.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Neither do you!” Violet started breathing heavily, quickly. Heart beating fast, body trembling, bottom lip quivering. Pietro was trembling too. “We don’t know what could have been! Maybe nothing would have changed, and we’d still be here stuck in this fucking castle and held captive by those fucking bastards. Or maybe everything would have changed? I could be hiding out in the tropics with Billy while invading a local village or some shit with Frank on the phone as backup. You could be dead or mated to Baron. Peter could be dead or Tony’s personal fuck toy pending on if that asshole ever came across him. Or maybe we’d all be dead from a robot invasion controlled by FRIDAY because she was tired of doing The Avengers dirty work and decided to kill the entire world. Or maybe Aliens invade looking for a magical cube! I don’t fucking know. That’s the point! We’ll never know! And that scares the shit out of me!”

Violet screamed the last part, finally stopping to catch her breath. Placing a hand against her chest, trying to control the shakes overwhelming her. Pietro was frozen, the anger mostly gone as he watched Violet continue with increasing worry. “We can’t change what’s happened anymore than we predict the future. One choice set so many things in motion, things both good and bad. A series of events that led us to this point where we’re now faced with a choice. A choice that could set another series of events into motion, and we don’t know where it’s going to take us.” Another shaky breath. Her free hand grabbed the other on her chest. “And what scares me most is that the choice we make now could lead to something awful. Something worse. Something that leads to us all dying horrible deaths, fuck, maybe we won’t even die. Maybe we’ll become immortal or something, forced to live forever and watch the effects of our choice ruin the world or some shit.”

“It won’t,” Pietro tried to assure, reaching out to Violet with a calm hand, but Violet pulled away. Climbing back onto the bed and curling up into a ball, resting her head on her knees. Nails digging into her opposing arms. 

“If we have her killed, whether we do it ourselves or order someone else, that’ll be the path we choose. Violent delights meet violent ends, or whatever was in that damn tragedy.” Violet grated, refusing to look up as she did.

“I’m sorry,” Pietro stated softly, weight shifting in front of Violet on the bed as he finally stopped pacing for good, choosing to sit down with her and Peter. “You’re right. We can’t choose that path.”

“But we can’t just let this slide,” Peter spoke up. Violet looked up slightly. He still looked a little dazed, a little haunted, but both paled in comparison to the sudden determination that filled his eyes, that showed with the sudden tension in his sharp jaw. He moved aside the pillow, scooting in closer to sit next to Violet and sling an arm over her shoulders. “We need to do something about this.”

“A choice does need to be made,” Pietro concurred, gently setting his hand on Violet’s knee.

“What choice though?” Violet asked softly. “Killing’s not an option. That’s what she did, and we’re better than that. I hope.”

“Can we just out her? Tell everyone the truth?” Peter offered, squeezing her shoulder, and shaking her slightly.

“Based on what I just saw I’d say they’d go with whatever you told them,” Pietro agreed once more.

“Not with something this big, and it’ll leave Doctor Strange in the wind without a parachute to land safely.” Violet mumbled, digging her face into her knees.

“Why did he show you this again?” Peter asked softly.

“Billy was my brother; I had a right to know.” Violet shrugged somewhat awkwardly, and painfully, but continued without complaint. “He’s also convinced I’m the only person here who’d make sure Betty stayed alive after the Avengers found out.”

“Okay, I can see you holding back The Widow and The Soldier, definitely Steve,” Pietro remarked, tone warming slightly at the mention of Steve. Violet’s brow furrowed at that, confused and curious. “I’m not sure about the rest of them though. Did he have any ideas to help you with that or did he just leave it to you to figure out?”

Violet sighed, finally lifting her head from her knees. “He suggested I use the Chosen Protocol.”

“Chosen Protocol?” Pietro and Peter mumbled in unison, and Violet didn’t need to look up to know they’d be pointing at each other and mumbling “jinx” before turning their attention to her.

“Yeah,” Violet sniffled, rolling her shoulders, and clenching her fingers before continuing. “He didn’t go into a lot of detail, just gave a general overview of what it is and when it can be used.”

“What did he tell you?” Peter asked gently in a soft whisper.

“He said it’s for when a Chosen is severely hurt.” Violet shrugged, shaking her head slightly. “When that happens, they can enact the Protocol and for the next twenty-four hours they have full control over everything. Everything and everyone.”

“Really?” Pietro spoke, tone full of suspicion, disbelief. “Not buying it.”

“What does he mean by hurt?” Peter cut in before Violet could voice her agreement.

“I don’t know, but I’m sure it’s more along the lines of “fuck, someone shot me,” instead of, “I just stubbed my toe on the table leg.””

“You’re quite right about that,” sounded a robotic, womanly voice from behind Violet.

The three Omegas shot up. Peter squeaked and latched onto Violet like a baby Koala to his mother. Pietro yelled, “shit!” and then jumped off the bed, fists raised. Violet’s head shot up from her knees, turning on the bed and pulling Peter with her until she sat protectively in front of him. They all looked around the room, eyes filled with alarm and confusion. It was quiet for a moment, none of them moved.

Then Violet blinked and looked down at the bed.

“FRIDAY?”

“Yes,” FRIDAY responded promptly, “I apologize for scaring the three of you. That was not my intention.”

Peter sighed in relief, releasing Violet but not moving an inch away. “I’m sorry too. You’d think I’d be used to hearing your voice by now, but I guess not.”

“You’ve had a very stressful day, Peter. Given everything you’ve been through; I’d say you’re allowed to feel on edge. Along with Ms. Violet and Pietro.”

“FRIDAY?” Pietro glowered, lowering his fists. “The A.I. I spoke with earlier?”

“Yes. Hello again. From my understanding, based on Ms. Violet’s outburst and Ms. Romanov’s current state, I assume the conversation with Mr. Rogers didn’t go as planned. Is that correct?”

“It was fine, great actually,” Pietro smirked, eyebrows wiggling slightly, before the smirk disappeared just as quickly as it arrived, “that is until The Widow and The Soldier came and ruined it with sexual assault.”

“Huh?” Peter piped in, eyes widening comically.

“Sorry Peter,” Pietro shrugged, glancing at Violet before continuing, “thought you caught it earlier.”

“And we don’t need to get into it until you’re ready to,” Violet added, nodding to Pietro and squeezing Peter’s hand comfortingly.

“Which will be over drinks,” Pietro smiled before pouting his lips, expression turning coy, “and maybe those blueberry muffins you made for my birthday earlier this year?”

Violet rolled her eyes, “I still have to make this one cherry pie.”

“You can do both?” Pietro shrugged, “I’d offer to help but we both know I’m a terrible cook.”

Violet bit her lip, “you can choose the music and dance around like a weirdo?”

Pietro winked, “consider it done.”

“I can help!” Peter perked up, smile big and bright and proud as can be.

“Help with what exactly?” Pietro cocked an eyebrow, looking Peter up and down slowly, sensually. Violet snorted, and Peter leaned back slightly in confusion. “Dance with me, or cook with her?”

“Both,” Violet laughed, “if you want, Peter. You don’t have to.”

He pursed his lips, shrugged slightly. “I’ll do both. My attention span isn’t exactly reliable when it comes to cooking, and dancing’s fun with the right music, and partner too.”

“Atta boy,” Pietro wiggled his eyebrows, and Violet laughed again.

“That sounds like a lovely idea,” FRIDAY interjected gently. “Will you be inviting anyone else to this _party_ of yours?”

Pietro reared back, scoffing and looking at the Stark Pad with clear revulsion at the suggestion, but Violet cut in before he could respond. “Actually, yeah.”

“Excellent,” FRIDAY stated happily while Pietro turned abruptly on the bed, neck whipping around so fast Violet could here the cracks in his spine from the effort. “Wait, really?”

Violet nodded, and Peter joined in with much more enthusiasm, happily stating, “Yep. Despite everything, we’ve met some really nice people here. Especially Rocket. Violet helped fix up the heater in his team’s jet and organize a bunch of stuff while also keeping Quill off his back for a while. In return he helped me work out some of my kinks with my A.I. Karen.”

Violet shrugged, “Thor’s not half bad either. Almost nice, for an Alpha anyway.”

Peter grinned, bouncing up and down on the bed like an overexcited puppy who just got adopted. “He is really nice, and a lot of fun to talk to. So many stories, so much knowledge, and he’s pretty cute too.”

“If you say so,” Violet quipped, patting Peter on the back of his head gently.

Pietro cocked his head, pursing his lips. “Cute, huh?”

“Yeah, remember that crappy vampire show on HBO we used to watch? True Blood, or something?” Violet inquired, staring expectantly at Pietro.

“The one with all the sex and blood and hateful humans who all deserved to die one time or another?” Pietro chuckled at Violet’s jerky nod. “Yeah, what about it?”

“Think of Thor as a tanner, nicer, more rugged version of Eric Northman. Complete with long, flowing blonde hair tied back in a low pony, and a sexual minx of a partner in the form of Loki.” Violet stopped, cocking her head and staring off into space. “Now that I think about it, Loki does seem a lot like Pam. Similar sense of humor anyway.”

“Whoa, hold on.” Pietro raised up a hand, stopping Violet’s train of thought. “Thor? Loki?”

“Don’t ask ‘cause we don’t know,” Violet shrugged once more, gesturing her hands halfheartedly. “Apparently there’s a story behind it.”

“One that Thor might tell us one day, if we’re lucky.” Peter smiled, completely missing the sharp, worried glance Violet aimed towards him. She and Pietro shared a worried stare before Peter continued his statement. “Go ahead and invite them FRIDAY. Pietro will love them.”

“Thor, Prince Loki, and The Guardians. Correct?”

“Yep,” Peter nodded eagerly.

“Invite Clint too,” Violet added softly, “same with Rhodey.”

“Happily,” FRIDAY responded brightly. “Is there anything else you require?”

Violet glanced at Peter, who grinned and jittered in excitement next to her on the bed. She looked to Pietro, slightly more concerned with his opinion at the moment in light of what just happened. He appeared nonchalant, shrugging his acquiescence, but Violet could see the muscle flutter in his jaw. Saw the tension seizing his shoulders. She mentally slapped herself, cursing their wandering conversation.

“What can you tell us about the Chosen Protocol?”

Pietro’s and Peter’s eyes flickered to Violet, widening slightly in surprise before turning their newly focused attentions on the Stark Pad laying on the bed. Violet turned slightly, reached out and grabbed it before setting it in her lap. Pietro also moved in a bit closer, and once he was settled the three made a perfect triangle surrounding the Stark Pad. FRIDAY didn’t answer immediately, forcing the three to wait with bated breath. Thankfully, she didn’t keep them waiting for long.

“The Chosen Protocol is designed to protect and care for a Chosen who has experienced severe trauma that leaves them vulnerable and exposed in a number of different ways. Such examples include physical incapacitation such as getting shot or beaten, emotional incapacitation that leaves them untrusting and paranoid, and mental incapacitation like being drugged and brain damage of some sort. Other examples included health crises, kidnapping scenarios, witnessing a horrible event, and other such occurrences. It was first put into effect after Dr. Betty Banner was taken at gun point shortly after she and Dr. Bruce Banner finished dinner on their date night. Though the assailant was quickly handled, she experienced her first miscarriage that night and demanded safety precautions. Thus, the Chosen Protocol was created.”

Violet frowned, “please tell me that’s where her influence ends and she didn’t have a hand in creating it?”

“She was not privy to the process, simply the catalyst in its creation.” FRIDAY quickly assured, her robotic voice growing softer as a result. “The ones who did create it were in fact Dr. Strange, Mrs. Laura Barton-Coulson, and Sgt. Barnes.”

Violet’s eyes widened. “Bucky?”

“Indeed,” FRIDAY confirmed, “and he was most enthusiastic to help. His assistance in the creation process aided his goal in retaining his memories that he believed were lost due to HYDRA’s experimentation on him.”

Violet blinked, unsure of what to say to that, when Pietro asked, “Who the Hell is Bucky?”

“It’s his first name. I’ll tell you more later,” Violet whispered, waving him off.

“So,” Peter started, swallowing before continuing, “how does this work exactly? How would one of us enact the Chosen Protocol?”

“It’s quite simple actually,” FRIDAY responded promptly, the previous softness disappearing. “All a Chosen needs to do is state, _I enact the Chosen Protocol_ , and that’s it. After it’s enacted, the Chosen has 24 hours to have free reign of everything and everyone. They can do whatever they want, whoever they want, go wherever they want, and anything they need, and desire will be placed at their feet in seconds.”

Really?

Peter blinked, “that’s it?”

“No way,” Pietro shook his head, “I call bullshit.”

“What’s the catch?” Violet cut in, cocking an eyebrow, and waiting for the bomb to drop.

There was a pause. Hesitation. Violet grew tense. Pietro cracked his knuckles. Peter shifted closer to Violet. She just placed a calming hand on both of them, one on Peter’s knee and the other on Pietro’s clenching hand, when FRIDAY finally spoke again.

“The catch is that not all Chosens can enact it.”

Blink. “Then what’s fucking the point of it?” Violet shot at the Stark Pad, hands raised in exasperation without leaving Peter and Pietro.

“Told you,” Pietro shook his head, lacing his fingers through Violet’s. “Bullshit.”

“Why is it that way?” Peter asked, keeping a level head.

FRIDAY sighed. “Not all Chosens have the capabilities of handling such power.”

“Power?” Pietro scoffed.

“Yes Pietro,” FRIDAY stated sternly. “Power. For 24 hours the Chosen who enacted the protocol has free and unlimited to do whatever they please. Not just pretty words. Not just a dream waiting to be achieved. It’s the truth. Complete and absolute power will be granted to the Chosen. Power to bend everything to their will.”

“Including the Avengers?” Violet inquired, brow furrowing, pulse racing.

“Yes,” FRIDAY’s voice softened once more. “Especially the Avengers.”

Violet reared back slightly, ignoring Pietro’s _bullshit_ and Peter’s sudden gasp. “Wait, whoa, what does that mean?”

“If the Chosen Protocol is enacted, The Avengers will be nothing more than pawns, servants, and weapons ready to be used at the Chosen’s disposal. They will enact all orders, all desires, all wishes. Whatever is requested, they will see it done.”

Violet’s mouth dropped, Pietro’s eyes popped out of his head, and Peter trembled next to Violet.

“So, if one of us enacted the Chosen Protocol, could we demand to be released?” Violet asked, daring to hope.

“Yes,” FRIDAY stated plainly, “if you enacted the protocol and demanded it, they would have no choice but to release you.”

Silence. Complete and utter silence. Pietro looked at Violet. Violet looked at Peter. Peter looked at the Stark Pad.

“There’s got to be a catch,” Violet mumbled. Too good to be true. No way is it that easy.

“Has to be,” Pietro nodded, “but what if there’s not?”

“Maybe we can get away for good?” Peter gnawed on his lip, forehead crinkled in concern.

For one solitary second, the three looked at one another and smiled. This is it. This is their way out. All they have to do is say the words, make the demand, and then they’re gone! Out! Away from The Avengers! Away from the pain! Away from all this bullshit and on their way home. Home to Matt, Foggy, and Karen at the Law firm. Home to Jessica and Alias Investigations. Home to Sam and Peter’s Uncle Ben and Aunt May. Home to the Omega House Violet had no doubt they’d fix up or move so others felt safe to find refuge there again. Home in New York, even though Violet couldn’t stand it. Just a few words, and they were free.

Then the second ended, and suspicion sank in. No, it’s not that easy. It can’t be.

“There’s more to it, isn’t there?” Violet spoke up, talking to FRIDAY directly.

“I’m afraid there is,” FRIDAY responded promptly. “Yes, you may order them to release you and wander freely under the conditions of the protocol. You maybe even order them not to follow you. However, once the 24 hours has ended, they will come to claim you once more.”

“Can we order them to, I don’t know, _not_ do that?” Violet interjected, refusing to let her hopes be dashed just yet.

FRIDAY released an audible sigh, and Violet prepared for the worst. “At this time, all three of you are not official Chosens.”

“Huh? What?” Pietro interrupted, “since when did I become a Chosen?”

“Since Sgt. Barnes reported as such a few minutes ago.”

“Fucking Hell.” Violet cursed, rolling her eyes in frustration. “Welcome to Club.”

“It’s not so bad,” Peter commented, flinching slightly at the angry looks Pietro and Violet gave him. “Not when you have Violet looking out for you.”

Pietro considered that, then shrugged slightly, “point taken.”

Violet shook her head. “What were you saying FRIDAY?”

“None of you are official Chosens, which means there’s still a chance for the three of you to prove you’re not worthy of the title and be released from the Avengers grasps, though I very much doubt that will be the case.”

“And why do you doubt that?” Violet inquired, pondering her own question. “Is it because we snuck into the control room of the tower?”

“And saw what was left of Kilgrave?” Peter shivered at his example.

“Or because we know they’re a bunch of sadistic asshats who get off on controlling people and using them as puppets?” Pietro added bitterly, glaring at the Stark Pad.

“And witnessed them in action being sadistic asshats?” Violet piled on, squeezing Pietro’s fingers. “And have seen them in action doing other unmentionable things like torture and murder?”

“No,” FRIDAY responded in a grave tone. “It’s because all of you meet at least two of the criteria required for a Chosen to enact the Protocol.”

Silence.

“Criteria?” Violet mumbled, “what Criteria?”

Billy’s shocked expression suddenly disappeared on the screen of the Stark Pad, and in its place was a white document. There wasn’t much on it. A single page filled with signatures, signatures from all of the Avengers, along with a list of rules, and a title that stated “THE CHOSEN PROTOCOL.”

“What the Hell?” Violet stared at the page like everything was written in Yiddish.

“After much deliberation between Dr. Strange, Mrs. Laura Barton-Coulson, and Sgt. Barnes, the three collectively agreed on these five stipulations. Stipulations that crossed over to finding worthy Chosens for all of the Avengers.” FRIDAY stated, voice stern and unyielding. “Ms. Violet, if you wouldn’t mind reading the stipulations.

Violet rolled her eyes once more, “Okay Teach, wouldn’t want my grade docked for not following instructions.”

“Please,” FRIDAY asked, voice softening.

She sighed, straightened her back slightly, and read aloud.

STIPULATION 1. LOYALTY: The Chosen must possess an unwavering loyalty. If not for the Avengers at first, then for their loved ones.

STIPULATION 2. UNBREAKABLE: The Chosen must possess an unbreakable will. Should capture or interrogation of another sort occur, they will not betray The Avengers or the secrets they have learned. They will protect and defend just as The Avengers would do for them.

STIPULATION 3. DURABILITY: The Chosen must possess the strength to bear the emotional, and physical, burdens of the Avengers.

STIPULATION 4. CONNECTION: The Chosen must have a connection/attraction to one or more of the Avengers. A connection that cannot and will not be broken by anyone or anything.

STIPULATION 5. SELFLESS: The Chosen must willfully put the needs of others before oneself on a near constant basis.

ONLY A CHOSEN WHO MEETS ALL OF THE CRITERIA CAN ENACT THE CHOSEN PROTOCOL.

Once she was finished, the three sighed in unison. Pietro was shaking his head, gnashing his teeth and cursing under his breath. Peter wrapped his arms around Violet, burrowing against her chest as he sought for comfort. Violet hugged Peter back, trying to make sense of all this crap.

“So,” she started carefully. “If we meet any two of these stipulations, we’re fucked?”

“Fucked as in you’ll be an Avengers Chosen for the rest of your days?” FRIDAY clarified.

“No, as in ready to strip and jump into an orgy,” Pietro growled, “what do you fucking think?”

Violet squeezed Pietro’s hand, and he squeezed back just as tightly.

“I’m sorry Pietro, but yes. If a potential Chosen meets at least two of these Criteria, they’re will be legitimized and proclaimed as such for the rest of their days.”

“Fucking hell,” Violet shook her head. “I already hate myself for asking, but how many of the criteria do we each meet?”

FRIDAY hummed, pondering the question. “As of now, Peter meets two with the potential for three. The Loyalty and Connection Stipulations. He’s shown signs for Selflessness towards you Ms. Violet but hasn’t had the full opportunity to prove as such. Pietro meets two, both Loyalty and Connection as well based on how well he and Mr. Rogers took to one another. You, Ms. Violet, meet all five.”

Silence.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Violet whispered, closing her eyes, and taking a deep breath. “Of course, I’m extra fucked, what else is new?”

“So, Violet’s the only one who can enact the Chosen Protocol?” Peter interjected, ignoring Pietro angry growl and Violet’s curse filled monologue. “Since she meets all of the criteria?”

“Yes,” FRIDAY confirmed in a tone that reminded Violet of church bells signaling a funeral procession.

“That’s good though,” Peter addressed Violet. “You can enact it, handle Betty like a boss, and then get us out of here.”

“Yeah,” Pietro added in, nodding along with Peter, “it won’t be permanent. They’ll come after us, hunt us down, but doing this will give us a head start. Go to all the places we talked about squirreling Peter away when this whole thing started.”

“Squirrel me away?” Peter cocked his head, brow furrowing in confusion.

“Later,” Pietro waved him off, shifting closer to kneel on the bed in front of Violet. “It’s a chance to run, to get out of here and see our friends again. 24 hours to do whatever we need to run, to hide from them, and live out our lives. A chance to be free again.”

Violet didn’t answer them, instead she looked to the Stark Pad sitting in her lap. “FRIDAY, how does a chosen get legitimized?”

“The Avengers gather to assess the new Chosen, determine the pros and cons, and then they vote. To make it official, all the Avengers must be in favor of legitimization. Then, the Chosen in question must say the words, “I am your Chosen.””

Pietro scoffed once more, Peter squeaked and held on tighter to Violet, but Violet simply asked, “has that vote already occurred?”

“For you and Peter it has. For Pietro it has not. They will deliberate and vote in the morning.”

Violet took a deep breath, dreading the answer she was coming to expect, “and if I were to enact the protocol, would that have the same effect as . . . those words?”

“For you? Yes, I’m afraid it would.”

There was a moment of silence. Pietro didn’t move, Peter barely breathed, and Violet’s mind went blank. Nothing could ever be easy. Nothing worth fighting for is ever easy. What is she, a homeless and reckless idiot who can’t stop fighting for what’s right to save her life, to do now? What can she do?

She closed her eyes once more, took a deep and calming breath, and then started moving. She gently pushed away from Peter, moved past Pietro, and climbed off the bed with the Stark Pad in hand. She walked to the door, each step purposeful and sharp. She opened the door, held the Stark Pad up, and stated. “Thanks for the info, but now it’s time for us to deliberate. Do us a favor and relay to the Avengers that they’re a bunch of assholes, and they don’t get to decide our fates. We do.”

Then, she threw the Stark Pad through the hallway like a quarterback aiming for a game wining touchdown. She turned back, ignoring the crash emanating behind her, and slammed the door shut.

“Alright, one problem at a time. Chosen shit is on the back burner.” She clapped her hands together, rubbing them together quickly, “let’s figure out how to deal with the manipulative psycho and then go get drunk.”

(Violet talking to Pietro)

(Pietro calling Bullshit)

(Peter trying to keep a level head)

(Preview for next chapter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, Natasha's current headspace and . . . Betty Banner XD.


	26. Waiting Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha ponders. Violet makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not my best work, and I'm not even sure if it makes sense, but I'm happy enough with it to post to you guys so I don't keep you waiting any longer. Thank you all so much for sticking with me! I appreciate you to no end!!! Thank you! Thank you! THANK YOU! :D
> 
> P.S. Check out the song "Waiting Game" by Kalandra. It helped inspire this chapter and certain thing that are to come. 
> 
> (Also, if this legit does not make any sense, please let me know. There was some stuff I introduced in here I thought I mentioned in previous but as I'm typing this I realize I might not have so it might come as a big shock :/. Sorry for that.)
> 
> AND! This chapter is apparently over 13,000 words :O. Was not expecting that. I should write smaller chapters XD. 
> 
> ENJOY! :D

Chapter 25

Waiting Game

_Natasha_

There was a time where Natasha knew how to cry. A time where tears would overwhelm and flood her face, choking her with its salty bitterness, and break her once gentle heart. A time where she was young. A time where she was free. A time where she was innocent.

A time that has long since passed.

Though she was still young, a year or so shy of 30, she was no longer gentle. Though she has broken away from those who trained and destroyed the girl she was, she was not free. Innocence was a dream that died in a time where she still dared to hope. Natasha Romanoff used to be Natalia Romanova. A sweet girl who would run through the flower fields surrounding her home every day without fail. A girl whose laughter was the song of angels to those who were blessed enough to hear it. A girl whose life was filled with the love of her mother, her sister, and the roses that bloomed from their hard work in the fields of her home.

A girl who died in the Red Room years ago.

She doesn’t remember her father. If she were to try, to use all her focus and training, she couldn’t dredge up a single memory of his face. His voice. His name. Anything about him. Most days she allowed herself to believe she never had one. In one way, an important way, that was true. Though he helped bring her into the world, he was never there to guide her as a father should. To teach her what’s right and wrong in the world. To show her all the beautiful things and people life had to offer. To comfort her in the darkness. To praise her in the light. She never had that.

But Violet did.

Violet. Her fierce and willful Chosen, her defiant and unbreakable Darling, her angry and hurting Opposite. Violet. The third person Natasha has underestimated since her induction to the Red Room at the age of 8. The first was Clint. The second was James. Violet’s the charm that makes three. Violet. The light that makes the stars shine through the darkness, the energy that fuels comets and planets, the sun that keeps the world alive all throughout time. Violet. The only person who can still hurt Natasha where it matters most.

Violet.

_“You hurt me.”_

Though it was filled to the brim with worried faces and tense postures, Natasha sat alone at the bar in the main room. The room where Violet and Peter spent the majority of their first week in Loki’s palace. Spent their time growing more and more comfortable with the company of the Guardians and fellow Avengers alike. Perhaps even growing to like them, just as they have grown to adore her.

Rocket and Clint have finally emerged from the Quinjet after hearing the news of Brea. They were dirty, grimy, covered in oil and sweat due to combined efforts in their mysterious project. A project even Natasha knew nothing about. Aside from his less than hygienic state, Clint looked as he ever did. Sardonically grumpy and one step away from shooting everyone in the face. Normally Natasha could detect a hint of a smile, signs of his naturally easy-going nature, but now it was nowhere to be seen. Not good. Rocket looked significantly angrier than normal, and with Quill’s lack of widened eyes do to fear at what the smaller man can do to him, it was clear his new distress was caused by Violet’s wellbeing.

Join the club.

Quill, as previously mentioned, didn’t appear scared or worried. His eyes were downcast, watching the floor with a frown while he fiddled with his ancient cassette player. The same one Violet had helped fix the day she met the Guardians. Gamora, his mate, sat close by his side, running an assuring hand across his shoulders while staring at the open hallways expectantly. Mantis was curled up in a ball and sat on Drax’s lap, cuddling up to his chest and humming softly. Drax took in deep breaths, held her tight, and calmed down with each hum his mate uttered. All in all, though significantly quieter and less erratic then normal, they seemed mostly okay.

The same could not be said about The Avengers.

Tony was pacing back and forth, leaving a trail in the fine rug. Hands were either in his hair, covering his mouth, rubbing together furiously in front of him, or shoved in his pockets. His breath was fast, panicked. His eyes were the same, shifting this way and that from the windows to the fireplace and back to the hallway that led to Peter’s room. The same room where Violet and Pietro had taken refuge after abruptly kicking him out and slamming the door in Natasha’s face. Rhodey, his dearest friend, watched Tony pace back and forth on the fine rug, sipping on his scotch with a worried gleam in his eyes.

Thor and Loki stood side by side at the fireplace. Arms linked around one another, Loki rested his head on Thor’s sturdy shoulder, Thor resting his chin on Loki’s ebony hair. Natasha couldn’t see their faces, but she knew them well enough to realize how shaken they both were after recent events. How worried they must be over Violet’s condition. They’ve experienced Bucky’s lapses more than once, had to hold him back just as much, and she could see they were mentally preparing for the same type of battle with Violet. Part of her appreciated their willingness to help, another felt reluctant. She should be helping her Chosen, not them. Alas, most of her felt the weighted pain of dread, for she knew that Violet would gladly accept their help over hers any day. For now, anyway.

_“You hurt me.”_

Bruce was trying to talk Tony down without daring to interrupt the man’s pacing. Betty, his wife and chosen, sat at the windowsill cradling their newborn child. She gingerly rocked the child, who was whimpering and crying in her embrace, but the woman did not give her child attention. To the untrained eye her expression was calm yet tired, but to Natasha the disgust emanating from the woman was crystal clear. She might be staring out of the window, but Natasha could see by her reflection what she was really looking at.

Rocket and the Guardians.

Natasha fought the urge to roll her eyes. Betty and her meaningless crusade. Such a simpering waste of time. Such a token of old-fashioned notions. So boring, predictable, and not worthy of Natasha’s attention. Still, Natasha didn’t dare discount the woman despite her disinterest. Though dull and insipid, Betty is an intelligent woman. Manipulative too. She also possessed a peculiar vindictive streak that gave Natasha pause when considering the Omega. Why else would she ask the worst of the Avengers five long years ago? Commanding the death and brutalization of Billy Russo with such vigor upon her hospital bed?

A command that led Natasha to her Chosen in the worst way possible.

_“You hurt me.”_

Steve stood at the edge of the room close to Tony’s incessant pacing. He leaned against the pool table, appeared particularly debauched with those blushing cheeks and messed up hair, and kept an ever-watchful eye on the room. His arms were crossed tight over his immaculate chest, muscles bulging from the renewed tension flooding through him. He changed his clothes. What were Khakis were now blue sweats, what was a nice button-down shirt was now a plain white T-Shirt. In Natasha’s not so humble opinion, the shirt was a definite improvement, but that didn’t matter now.

James leaned against the opening of the hallway that led to Peter’s room, that led to Violet. Stiff as a board, eyes just as still and tense. The Alpha watched with focus he reserved for watching targets through the scope of a sniper rifle. The hunter’s stare that unnerved so many, including Steve, but made Natasha feel safe. Comforted. Aroused. The stare was trained on the hallway, waiting for Violet and company to emerge, but every so often he’d turn just enough to look at Steve, and then Natasha. Gauging their wellbeing, determining whether they needed him or not. Steve would give him a small smile and a distinct nod, _“I’m fine, keep a lookout.”_ Natasha would move her head side to side the smallest amount, _“Don’t worry about me.”_ Once he was satisfied, he turned back to watch for Violet. No one else in the room could have caught their interaction. Locks of hair were falling out of his bun again, framing his beautiful face exactly the way Natasha preferred it. His black tactical pants made his ass look absolutely delectable.

There isn’t time for that.

Wanda and Jarvis remained unseen. The Omega experienced an unhealthy amount of stress not too long ago courtesy of Pietro, so Jarvis decided some time away from everyone was needed after consulting with Wanda. This time Natasha did roll her eyes. So weak. So breakable. Jarvis is the perfect Alpha for Wanda, so careful with those he came to love and respect in his life. He’d make sure she’s treated like a Queen for the rest of her days. Natasha could never do that though. Be with someone so soft, so . . . fragile. For the life of her, she couldn’t see why Violet would give everything to help her. Help Peter. Help Pietro. Help all those helpless Omegas in that house they raided and took to the hospital. Help those who can’t help themselves. In Natasha’s book, if they can’t, or rather won’t, help themselves then they don’t deserve to be helped.

So, why would Violet help them anyway?

_“You hurt me.”_

Natasha sat at the bar. The only person in this room, this whole castle, that was truly alone. A glass of vodka on the rocks next to her, index finger tracing the top, the sweet condensation coating her skin as she pondered and thought about her current predicament. To most, she too seemed calm. Content and oozing sex appeal as she so naturally does. To those that know her, really know her, she was rattled.

Clint recognized that the moment he walked into the room with Rocket. He had sighed, grunted in agreement, and patted her knee. His way of saying, _“whatever you did, you’ll fix it.”_ She winked back, _“of course I will.”_ No one saw the interaction. No one needed to see it. Steve would recognize it anywhere. It’s the same look she wore when she first met James in the HYDRA compound all those years ago. A look he’s never forgotten, and one he’ll recognize every time. James wouldn’t have needed to be there to recognize it. He knew her inside and out. Better than anyone else, or at least she thought so. Perhaps she was wrong about that. Perhaps Violet knew her better?

How else could she know what to say to make Natasha feel so wrong?

_“You hurt me.”_

Yes. Natasha admitted to herself. She hurt her. She hurt Violet. Her Chosen. Her Darling. Her Opposite. Her . . .

Her Everything.

When the concept of a Chosen was first introduced courtesy of the Hulk’s obsessive need to keep his wife safe and at his side, and Tony’s need for a submissive equal to make him feel like the man he used to be, Natasha knew it would change everything. She knew it would cause unforeseeable problems that would shake the entire core of the Avengers. Create cracks and fissures in the system they’ve worked so hard to improve since it’s inception. She could see it coming a mile away, as did James and Clint. The three used to preach to the others to use caution when flirting with the idea of finding a Chosen. Used to scoff at the little stories Bruce would share and Tony’s little fantasies he would go on and on about.

Now it didn’t matter in the slightest to her.

Natasha has long forgotten what it felt like to be human. To feel embarrassed as others do. To feel rejected and pushed aside. To feel crushed. To feel like she couldn’t breathe right despite the absurdity of the notion. To feel . . . normal. Or as normal as she ever could be considering the past 20 years of her life. She can pretend and play a normal person if a mission requires it, use a normal persona to infiltrate corporations and governments however times it’s needed. To actually be one though? A normal woman dealing with normal problems? Impossible.

Yet all these emotions, the effect they’re having on her, were as close to normal as she was ever going to get. Close to being a person who’s worthy of being called human. So close.

And it was all because of Violet.

What Natasha and James have is purely physical. They love each other with all their hearts, but their bond is based through touch. Through skin to skin contact. Through hot breath and raucous moans. Through blood pumping and pulsing as they ravaged and held each other through both the best and darkest of times. They love one another. They trust one another. They’re meant to be with one another. Unfortunately, neither could provide the other what Violet could, nor could they provide those same needs for her.

Which is why Steve and Pietro are so important. They can do what Natasha and James can’t. They can connect with her on the emotional level, something the assassins have been trained and tortured not to do. They can’t open up in that way. Can’t feel as they’re supposed to. Steve can though if he would stop being so stubborn. Pietro can, and could pull it out of her just like he was doing with Steve. Violet needs them, and they need her. Steve needs her willful nature to knock him down a peg or two when he’s being too stubborn for his own good, along with her caring and selfless nature to ease the sting of her sometimes-abrasive approach. She and Pietro are seemingly good friends and can help one another in ways the Alphas are incapable. She needs them, and they need her. A Pack is the best and only option for her.

How did it go so wrong?

_“You hurt me.”_

Natasha stopped fidgeting with the glass, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. She straightened up slightly, lip trembling the slightest bit. From the corner of her eye, Clint raised an eyebrow. Fuck. That’s not good. She raised the finger that was tracing the glass, nonchalant and inconspicuous. “I’m fine.” His head cocked slightly, not buying it. She looked away, refusing to give him another answer.

_“You hurt me.”_

Where is she? Why won’t she come out?

_“You hurt me.”_

Natasha took another deep breath, ashamed and surprised to find it wasn’t working.

_“You hurt me.”_

Clint was coming closer. She could feel his advance. She grabbed the glass with the tips of her fingers, taking another deep breath as she squeezed.

_“You hurt me.”_

A little more pressure and the glass will break. She wants to break it. Wants to feel pain she was used to, not this foreign monstrosity punching a hole through her chest.

_“You hurt me.”_

Just a little more. A little more.

_“You hurt me.”_

The glass was out of her hand, skirting across the countertop and landing with a sharp crash onto the floor.

“Shit, sorry Nat.” Clint proclaimed buoyantly, loud enough for the room to hear without actually overdoing it. “I might be able to shoot the wings off a fly from leagues away, but that doesn’t make up for my two left feet.”

He came into view, waving apologetically to the room, and turned to face Natasha head on.

His mouth said, “how about I make you another drink to make up for the one I lost?” Smiling as he asked.

His eyes said, _“don’t bullshit me. Tell me what’s going on.”_

Natasha smiled back, flirtatious, and salacious. “Make it a double and be sure to make one for yourself.”

Her eyes were angry. Displeased. _“I’m fine. Go away.”_

Clint stepped around the mess, grabbed an empty glass, flipped it in the air, and caught it effortlessly. “Choose your poison.”

 _Choose your weapon_ , Natasha thought spitefully, turning in her seat to face him with a seductive smile. “I’ll take the whiskey. Straight.”

“As you wish,” Clint bowed slightly, sending her a wink. “Someone feeling a little lonely?”

Damn him. “Feeling a little nosy? Do I detect a Sherlockian stare in those baby blues? Are you the one that’s feeling lonely?” She laid into the smirk, resting her elbows on the counter, a finger reaching out to trace the back of his hand. “It has been awhile since you’ve seen Laura or Phil.”

“It has,” he admitted, pulling away to grab the bottle of whiskey in the cabinet behind him, blessing her with one of his signature, _“I’ll kill you with my dick,”_ stares.

 _I’ll be open and waiting_. Her smirk turned in a smile, chuckling to herself. “How are the two fairing these days?”

“They’re doing okay. Laura’s keeping Phil from working himself to death, and in return he keeps her from taking all the toys away from the kids.”

Natasha straightened up, dropping the seduction momentarily. Softness taking its place “How are the kids?”

Clint turned abruptly to glare at her, but it eased immediately. This wasn’t part of the act, wasn’t a brush off, this is real. Natasha knows better than to use his children as a scapegoat to avoid a conversation. She respects him more than that. She cares about them more than that. He knows that when she asks about them, inquiring about their wellbeing, she means it.

“They’re doing great. Driving Laura up the wall with all the stuff they get into. Cooper’s taken to hiding out in the trees during the day. He waits for someone to come looking for him, then jumps down and scares the shit out of them.” Clint shook his head, smiling as he poured whiskey in two glasses. “Lila found my weapons stash, made her own target, and has been practicing with the arrows ever since.”

“Both taking after their father,” Natasha smiled, green eyes warming considerably. “Cooper acting out with trees instead of vents, and Lila with your bow.”

“Laura almost had a heart attack when she saw her baby boy hanging upside down from one of the tree branches.” Clint grinned, pushing Natasha one of the drinks as he put the cap back on the whiskey bottle. “She wasn’t too happy with Lila either. She carved the target into Cooper’s tree using one of her fancy knives. You know, the ones she uses to entertain Government officials while we’re infiltrating their systems. Almost kicked her to Kingdom Come.”

“I assume that’s where Phil stepped in?”

“Right as always,” he winked, turning away to put the whiskey back. “Had it all handled within a few minutes.”

Natasha raised her glass, “he always knows what to say to make things right.”

“Maybe we should sic him on Violet,” Clint laughed, raising his glass in return. “Have him work his magic and figure that kid out so we can help her.”

“Not a bad idea,” Natasha admitted. “If anyone can, it’d be him.”

“You don’t like that though,” Clint surmised, staring her down with his piercing stare as he sipped the amber colored liquid.

“What makes you say that?” Her smirk was back, laying into her seductive nature once more.

He gestured to her drink. “You don’t drink whiskey.”

She narrowed her eyes. “why should that matter?”

“It matters because the only the time you ever do is when Barnes over there,” he gestured towards James, “is on a mission. As we can see, he’s not. At least, not one where he’s thousands of miles away in enemy territory.”

“Be sure to get to the point,” Natasha cut in sharply, “you’re not one for long winded conversations.”

“Nope, that’s your specialty.” Clint winked, and she chuckled with him. “You’re drinking it because it smells like him.”

“He smells better,” she wiggled her eyebrows, “tastes better too.” She whispered, taking a sip of the amber liquid.

“Possibly, but I wouldn’t know for myself. There’s only one man who gets me going and currently he’s sleeping with our wife.” Clint took another drink, exhaling sharply, and stared at Natasha pointedly. “You want to smell like him.”

“And why would I want to do that?”

“Because Violet’s starting trust him, or at least warm up to him, while she’s this close to throwing you to the floor and finishing the job Brea started.” Clint responded curtly, harshly, and watched Natasha’s reaction with a cold look on his face.

Natasha froze too, cursing herself for being so transparent. Fuck. She should have known he could see it. See through the mask she put on display for the room to see. She must be losing her edge. Staring back at him, she pondered her next decision. He knows what’s going on. He knows she’s holding back. He knows how bad that is and won’t walk away without a fight.

Fuck.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” she suddenly admitted in a faint whisper. She didn’t want to fight Clint. Not now. Not with this. At the same time, she’d die before letting anyone else onto her serious plight. One person knowing, apart from James, was enough.

He nodded slightly, taking away her glass and pouring the liquid into his own. “For starters, don’t rely on others small successes. You know better than that.”

“I do,” she nodded, sighing softly. “I’m off my game.”

“Everyone is,” Clint agreed quickly before turning back to the cabinet. “None of us could have predicted Brea or prepare for all that’s happened. Especially not of this magnitude. What we thought were two average Omegas being brought in for assessment turned into a whole shit show. True mates, unbreakable loyalties and wills, messy and traumatic pasts, secret connections to HYDRA, the list goes on and we don’t how much left there is. Thank God Peter’s relatively normal.”

“Violet’s made it so,” Natasha smiled slightly, “who knows what would have become of him if she hadn’t been there to guide him?”

“We’ll never know,” Clint turned back, a bottle of Natasha’s favorite wine in hand and a corkscrew in the other. “That being said, I do think he’s better off now than he would be without her.”

“I agree.”

Corkscrew punctures the cork. “You sure know how to pick them ‘Tasha.” Clint smiled, working the screw deep.

“I like to think that, but the truth is I didn’t. Not this time.” Her smile grew slightly, green gaze warming ever so slightly. “We’re true Mates. There was never a choice. It’s meant to be.”

Clint nodded, “not just for you and Barnes, but for the Captain too. Unless the rumors I keep hearing are wrong.”

“Don’t forget Pietro,” Natasha confirmed, watching Clint pop the cork of the bottle with a sharp pull.

“Of course,” Clint tossed the cork towards Natasha, reaching behind him to grab a clean glass for her, and pouring the dark wine. “Now why are you sitting around and feeling sorry for yourself? That’s not the Natasha I know.”

Her smile dropped, eyes growing steely. “I hurt her.”

“You did,” Clint agreed, placing the bottle on the counter, and handing her the glass in the same movement. “Now how are you going to fix it?”

“I already told you,” Natasha’s glare intensified, “I don’t know.”

“You will,” nodding to the glass she hasn’t taken, “when the time is right.”

“How would you know that?”

“Phil,” Clint smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Taking a step back and letting someone else have point for a while would help too.”

She thought on that, weighing the pros and cons. “Perhaps.” She took the glass, steel remaining in her eyes.

“Maybe hand it over to Cap? If the three of you are set to move forward with the pack, it might be better coming from him? Seeing as how he was able to have a full conversation with her without the threat on his life or manhood.” Clint offered, bringing the whiskey to his lips.

“Good suggestion,” Natasha brought the wine to her lips, pausing just a moment to inhale the luxurious aroma. “Steve can be there, offer support and assurance when things go bad, but if someone else is going to be in charge, I want it to be James. She’s our Chosen. Not Steve’s. Not Pietro’s. Ours. As part of the pack they may indulge and bond with her as she sees fit, but she’s ours. She doesn’t belong to them; she belongs with us.” She took a long sip, savoring the dark flavors on her tongue before continuing. “If not me, then it needs to be him.”

“Fair enough,” Clint pulled away the glass, raising it high between the pair of them. “To the things we do for the ones we love.”

Natasha chuckled delicately, clinking her glass with Clint’s. “How poetically revised from one Jaimie Lannister. Good thing Laura isn’t Cersei or the whole world would be doomed.”

“Ooh,” Clint taunted, “a Game of Thrones reference?”

Natasha narrowed her eyes once more, “I’ve used them before. Why should it come as such a shock?”

“Because you’re using it on the wrong person.” Clint shook his head, pointing to the Hallway everyone was watching at this point. “Violet is obsessed with Game of Thrones. So obsessed she actually tried to read all the books that have been published so far which is something I can say for myself was one Hell of a challenge.”

“Why?” Natasha smirked again, taking another long sip of her wine.

Clint cocked an eyebrow. “Does that girl look like she can sit down and read that monstrosity of a book series?”

Natasha thought on it. “No. She’s not the sit down and read type.”

“Exactly,” Clint reached for ward and clinked glasses with her again. “She doesn’t sit and read about shit, she’s the go out and experience it for herself type. The good type in my opinion.”

“I concur,” Natasha smiled, “so many more doors open, so many adventures just waiting to be experienced.”

“If only you can get her to walk through those doors at your side,” Clint started moving around the bar counter, “which you will. Eventually.”

“That’s right,” Natasha nodded, “we will.”

She glanced over to James, sighing slightly at his positioning. To the room he appeared as intense and focused as before, but to Natasha and Clint, perhaps even Steve, his focus was now divided. His eyes were clearly on the hallway, but his head and body shifted slightly towards Natasha. He caught their conversation. Listening intently as he always does. She took a deep breath, raising her glass to her lips once more. “We will.”

James lowered his head, then raised in a fast jerky motion. A nod. Natasha smiled behind the glass. What she would do without him she’d never know. She didn’t want to know.

A muffled shout echoed down the hallway.

James whipped his attention back to the cavernous opening. The Guardians stood at attention sporadically. Drax was the last one to fully react as he took the time to pick up Mantis, set her carefully on the couch next to him, and then stood proudly to face the shout. Quill and Gamora held hands. Rocket put his hands in his jacket, no doubt grabbing his guns and readying himself to shoot. Tony stopped pacing, staring at the area with wide eyes. Rhodey put his scotch down and moved in tandem with Bruce to stand directly behind Tony. Steve moved through the crowd until he stood next to James, placing a firm and steadying hand on his shoulder. James relaxed slightly, but it didn’t diffuse the tension rolling through him.

Alert and ready, Natasha placed the glass on the counter and stood to her feet, eyes scanning the darkness for movements. Clint was right with her, tossing his whiskey and grabbing the weapon he concealed in the waistband of his jeans. Natasha saw James do the same, stiffening and preparing the worst as he grabbed a knife from his thigh holster, the knife that belonged to their Chosen. The knife that was engraved with Brea’s name, and Violet’s name scratched on in Frank’s crude penmanship. The knife they returned to her a few weeks ago in the tower only to reclaim it when they were forced to vacate and flee to Loki’s castle.

The knife Natasha knew James intended to return to her.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Came the shout, this one closer and louder than before.

Clint flinched, leaning back slightly. Releasing his weapon and letting his hands drop to his sides. “Is that Violet?”

“Yes,” Natasha, knowing that voice anywhere. She glanced around, cataloguing all the inhabitants. “Wonder who pissed her off this time?”

“Guys! Stop fighting!” Came the next shout, and much more distinguishable than the rest.

Natasha cocked an eyebrow, “Peter?”

“Sounds like it,” Clint moved forward, crossing his arms, brow furrowing with worry. “What the Hell is going on?”

“I think we’re about to find out,” Natasha murmured as the shouts intensified to screams, thuds and bumps emanating from the stone hallway.

Then suddenly there they were. All three Omegas, all three Chosens (or soon to be in Pietro’s case), in all their glory barreling through the stone entrance like a bunch of fighting children. Clint let out a laugh before he could stop himself, Natasha cocked an eyebrow, and everyone else in the room stared in shock.

Violet was riding Pietro’s back, legs wrapped tight around his waist while her hands were covering his face. Natasha’s raised eyebrow became more pronounced, eyes widening slightly. Violet was never the type to get physical with her friends, apart from circumstances that were either playful or required her to protect them. This was neither. This was something darker, angrier, and needed to be dealt with immediately. Also, she changed her clothes. No longer in the blue sweater and black sweats she wore to yell at Natasha before slamming the door in her face, now she wore something that she seemed infinitely more comfortable in despite her distressed state.

Peter’s clothes.

From what she could briefly see in the commotion in tow, she wore a plaid button-down shirt with hues of blue, what looked like a grey t-shirt beneath it, and blue jeans with black converse. Peter was now wearing her, or rather Wanda’s, blue sweater, and black sweats over several shirts and possible pants as well. That boy did not belong in the North. Even with all those layers he was still shaking like a leaf.

“Violet,” Pietro shouted, stumbling through the entrance, spinning wildly in an effort to throw her off him. “Stop it!”

“No!” Violet held on tight, moving her hands to try covering his mouth.

“We’ve got to tell them!” Pietro managed to garble out.

“If we do, she dies!” Violet growled, digging her heels as he spun her around once more.

Natasha leaned back slightly, eyes widening the tiniest bit. Tell them what? Who would die?

“Then do the protocol! Enact the damn thing and use it to stop them!” Pietro got his face free, stumbling over to the couch. Forcing the Guardians to back away in sheer surprise. Their surprise paled in comparison to Natasha. The Protocol? Were they referring to the Chosen Protocol? How did they know about that already? As an unofficial rule, it was decreed that only officials Chosens would only be informed of the Protocol after all is said and done to avoid power hungry characters who would use it for nefarious, selfish means.

“The Protocol is a trap and complete bullshit!” Violet countered, covering his face once more and pulling on his hair. “There’s got to be another way!”

Natasha hummed. Well, time to officially check off the power-hungry trait from her list.

“Not telling them is not the other way!” Pietro countered back, barreling towards the couch and hopping onto it. The pair landed with a heave, but Violet held on. They bounced off the cushions and fell haphazardly to the ground. Violet still held on. “Fuck! Let go!”

“Not a chance!” She shouted back, readjusting her grip. “And I wasn’t gonna do nothing about it! Just handle it our own way without getting them involved!”

“How do you plan on doing that?!”

“I don’t know!” Violet screamed. “You stormed out before we could figure it out!”

Now Pietro was rolling them around on the floor, Violet holding on for dear life as he did.

“How the fuck are you still holding on?!”

“I play guitar for a living!”

“Both of you! Stop it!” Came a strangled scream from across the room.

And they did. Pietro stopped rolling, leaving Violet on the floor while his back on top of her. Body snug in her warm and tight embrace. Natasha felt a sharp pang of envy roll through her at the sight as both Omegas looked to where the scream emanated from.

Peter. Sweet Peter. The official cinnamon roll among the tainted buffet that was the Avengers and company. He stood hunched over near the fireplace where Loki and Thor were gently tending to him. Red, tear streaked face, holding onto Loki’s hand and leaning into Thor’s warm embrace as he watched his friends fight before him. He sniffled, raising his head slightly as his lips trembled. “Pietro’s right. You have to tell them Violet.”

Violet released the Omega, rolling to her feet to address her brother. “If we tell them we might as well kill her ourselves! We went over this.”

“She deserves what she gets,” Pietro grumbled from the ground, moving to stand next to her.

“We’re not the ones to decide that” she shot back harshly, pointedly gesturing to the room around them, “and these asshats certainly don’t get too either.”

“They have to know, Violet.” Peter cried, teary eyes pleading with her.

“At what cost?” Violet returned, softening her voice as she continued. “What price will we have to pay if we do?”

“She ruined your life,” Peter strained, tightening his hold on Loki’s hand.

“My life was already ruined!” Violet shot back, eyes wide with desperation, rage. A terrible combination. “My life went to shit when my Dad died! Everything! All the hopes, the plans I might have had, thrown in the garbage because he was gone. Because he wasn’t going to be there with me to tell me I was an idiot or smile and say, “good job kid, knew you had it in you”. Gone and rotting in the fucking ground!” Her chin trembled, voice shaking the slightest bit, but she controlled it.

Natasha flinched at that.

Even when she’s angry beyond words, Violet always put Peter’s feelings over her own. Natasha was starting to understand that in a way she hasn’t before. Understand how deep that need went. Understand how vital it was to put an end to it. Violet needed to allow herself to feel, and her Alphas would make sure she does. Something that will be a Hell of a lot easier now that Steve was on board.

Violet jerked her head, forcing herself to continue her plea. “The day I knew my life was officially ruined was when Billy ordered pizza for the fifth time 2 days after I moved in with him after Dad’s funeral. He burned top ramen and somehow messed up cereal before stepping out and saying, “ _Sorry_ ,” and leaving me to put out the fire on the stove while he went to work.” She took a breath, fast and shallow. “Him getting falsely accused and then butchered like a pig was the cherry on top of that horrible sundae after dealing with his destructive cooking and highly dangerous escape scenarios almost non-stop for five years straight. Scenarios that probably would have done me in if Frank hadn’t stepped in and taught me how to do it the right way.”

“Wait, he ruined cereal?” Pietro cut in, rubbing the back of his head where Violet had been pulling his hair.

“He made Wanda look like Gordon Ramsay.” Violet replied offhandedly.

“Oh shit,” Pietro mumbled. “And he left you to put out a fire?”

“To be fair, he didn’t know the stove was on fire. He just thought it was the Ramen.”

“Was it?”

“Yeah because that’s what happens when you burn a hole through your pot and the leftover flames ignite your meal.” Violet shrugged.

“Holy shit,” Pietro turning to look at her with pride. “So, learning how to cook?”

“Purely out of survival and wanting to avoid pizza and takeout for the rest of my life. My Dad taught me the basics, but YouTubing Gordon Ramsay, along with a few other chefs, and watching shows like Hell’s Kitchen and Chopped shaped the amateur cook standing next to you today.” She gestured to herself, expression thoroughly unimpressed before softening once more at Peter’s teary face.

A teary face that suddenly appeared quite determined.

“You can do anything you put your mind to,” Peter interjected, tone calmer than before. “I know that. We all know that. You’ve proved it time and time again, and I absolutely love that about you.”

Violet sighed, those starry eyes pleading with her brother. “We can’t tell them Peter.”

“You always look out for us. Me, Pietro, and Wanda. Jessica when she’s drinking too much, even Darcy who prove she didn’t deserve your friendship after that stunt she pulled.” Peter growled that last bit, while Violet’s eyes softened even more. The gold flickering beautifully amid the indigo. “All the Omegas you helped, all the Alphas you stopped, all the times you protected us. Protected me.” He straightened up slightly, taking a deep breath, forcing himself to continue. “It’s time we looked out for you. Protected you.”

“Where are you going with this, Peter?” Violet stepped forward, brow furrowing in concern.

He took another breath, puffing out his chest, and looking her dead on in the face. “If you don’t tell them, tell them what FRIDAY and Dr. Strange showed us, then I’ll say the words.”

Violet paled, freezing where she stood. “What?”

“I’ll do it.” Peter’s lip started trembling again. “If you don’t tell them, then I’ll say the words. I’ll buy in and be his.” He pulled away from Loki and Thor, bravely and purposefully walking towards Tony, boldly taking his hand much to the Alpha’s blatant pleasure who reciprocated by sliding his other hand up Peter’s chest until it rested over his heart. The boy shivered, somehow blushing even more with how red his face already was, but otherwise remained stern. “If you don’t look out for yourself, punish this woman for the wrongs she’s done to you, then I will. I’ll buy in and handle it with The Avengers myself. I’ll protect you this time. Your choice.”

At this point, the room was a mixture of shock and awe with bits of rage and confusion. The Guardians stood aside and watched the entire interaction in awe, not so subtly moving closer towards Violet as they did. Backing her darling like the team they are. Rocket moved until he was not but three feet behind her, glaring the shit out of Pietro who backed away a few steps as he looked on extremely confused. Tony, Rhodey, and Bruce all crowded around Peter, but Rhodey looked at Violet in concern. Proving where his true loyalties lie. Thor and Loki also looked at Violet in concern, holding onto one another as they waited for the proverbial bomb to drop.

Clint had moved to stand next to Rocket, working in tandem with the shorter, angrier man to look out for her darling. James and Steve now stood on either side of Natasha, elbows brushing as the three watched the scene draw out. James’ expression was inscrutable, but she could feel how angry he was by the way he held himself next to her. Steve’s was pained. Natasha was sure her expression was a combination of the two.

And they were all staring at Violet, waiting to see what choice she would make for whatever conundrum they were fighting on. Natasha was sure it had to do with Betty considering the recent truth she and James revealed to her just this morning. The truth that caused Brea to re-emerge and nearly killed Natasha as a result.

Goodness, was it really this morning? How long it seems since that wonderful moment in bed with her Chosen before revealing that terrible, terrible truth. Feels like months.

It seems that truth is now about to erupt in front of everyone. Unfortunately, thanks to Peter’s underhanded play, Violet was the one who had to deal with it. Natasha felt the urge to walk towards her. Take the wonderful woman into her arms and hold her tight. She can’t though. Violet wouldn’t want that. She’s still angry with Natasha. With James. Angry with them from the stunt they pulled with Steve and Pietro. She hummed to herself, finding herself pondering Clint’s earlier suggestion. Perhaps Steve should take point. Perhaps what was best for the time being is she and James taking a step back and giving their darling space. She bristled at the thought, flinching once more at the sharp pain in her heart, but her mind was put at ease. If felt wrong in so many ways to allow her Chosen to converse with another Alpha without her or James’ assistance. Alas, though it felt wrong, Natasha knew it was the right play.

Whether she had the strength to bear it without breaking things or murdering someone was another matter entirely. None of that mattered now though. Right now, the only person that mattered is the woman standing in the middle of the room. Seemingly alone, completely unaware about how wrong she is in that fact.

Violet’s eyes were wide, brow crinkled in dismay. Peter, the boy she considered her brother, just sided with Tony Stark. The ultimate face of the enemy. Natasha expected her fists to tighten and clench, but they did the exact opposite. They loosened. Like all the fight just left her. Natasha tilted her head, lips parting in surprise. Really? That’s it? Is that all they had to do to get her to stop? Turn Peter towards their side? Really?

There’s no way.

Yet her shoulders drooped the slightest bit. Her breath became heavier, eyes looking down at the carpet as her head tilted forward. Defeated. No. That can’t be happening.

 _No_.

Not so long ago Natasha would have rejoiced at this. Seeing Violet give in, submit to her, to James, to her Alphas where she sorely belonged. Now though, after all that’s happened and how much this woman changed them in such a short amount of time, Natasha wasn’t so keen on the idea. Especially since it came about from a loved one’s betrayal.

How much more does Violet have to go through?

“I’m sorry,” sounded Betty’s voice from the corner of the room, “but what exactly is going on here?”

Natasha barely had time to register how Betty was the only person in the room who didn’t move when Pietro and Violet came barreling from the hallway when there was sudden uproar of shouts and screams.

“Don’t you dare talk to her!” Peter screamed, pulling away from Tony harshly to face the now surprised woman head on.

“Shut you’re fucking mouth!” Pietro screamed too, pushing past Rocket and Clint to confront the woman.

Or rather, he tried to.

Violet’s head popped back up at the sound of Betty’s voice, eyeing Peter protectively before changing direction to follow Pietro. She moved at the speed of light to jump in front of him, dropped to her knees, and punched him–

Holy shit, she punched him in the dick.

Natasha smirked at the muted sound of the men hissing through vicarious pain at the motion. Pietro let out a squeal, falling to the ground like a sack of bricks, hands cupping his manhood as he closed his legs and contorted into the fetal position.

“Why would you do that?!” Peter screamed, hands tangling in his hair.

Violet stood up, exhaling sharply, and pointed directly behind her. “She’s got a baby in her hands.”

Peter dropped his hands, moving to cover his mouth as his eyes widened in shock. Though still writhing on the ground, Pietro peaked to where Violet was pointing. “Oh, my bad.”

Violet just rolled her eyes, shaking her head in annoyance.

Meanwhile, Betty tried to speak once more. “What on Earth is going on–”

“Bitch,” Violet turned to face the Doctor, “I’m trying to save your worthless ass. Do me a favor and shut the fuck up.”

Oh, here we go.

Natasha glanced over to watch Bruce’s reaction as Betty puffed out her chest. “How dare you speak to me in such a manner?”

“How dare you act like the perfect, motherly figure when really you’re a psychotic asshat who’d rather frame and orchestrate a man’s torture and death instead of admitting you’re a flawed human being?” Violet shot back, hands clenching and eyes blazing. Natasha smiled. There’s her Violet.

Betty scoffed, adjusting her grip on her child, “I have no idea what you’re talking about–”

“Don’t you fucking lie to me,” Violet growled harshly, “I saw the video. I read the paperwork. All three of us did.”

Video? Paperwork? Natasha glanced around the room, searching for signs of recognition. Surprisingly, though based on Violet’s comments it shouldn’t be, Betty’s face shifted the slightest bit. The left corner of her mouth twitched, so small only Natasha and James, along with Bruce, could catch it. Based on the renewed clench in his jaw, he caught it too. Across the room, Natasha saw Bruce’s eyes widen, back straightening in surprise.

“Ms. Mason,” Betty started, her tone formal and haughty, “you have suffered a tremendous ordeal.”

“That’s one way to describe five years of Hell with bits of heaven to give me the strength to carry on.” Violet quipped, cocking an eyebrow and staring the new mother down. Gesturing angrily with her hands, body turning slightly to face the woman head on, her stiff back now facing Peter.

Betty continued as if Violet hadn’t spoken. “You are not in your right mind. You need to rest–”

“I’ve been unconscious all fucking day. If I’m not in my right mind, it’s because I got more than two hours of sleep in the last three days.” Violet shot back, taking a step closer. “And if we’re going to be honest here, really honest about ourselves, then by your logic I haven’t been in my right mind since you orchestrated Billy’s death.”

“He murdered my child!” Betty stood up from her seat, holding her son close to her chest. The son who whined and began to fuss from the sudden movement.

“Say that again without your mouth flinching,” Violet growled, jabbing a finger towards Betty’s face.

Ooh. She caught it too. Natasha smiled with pride.

Betty’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Why you insolent little–”

“Insolent little what?” Violet cut off once more. “Professor Snape never got to finish that quote in the movie. Wouldn’t want you to ruin it with your simpering tone when Alan Rickman’s is like biscuits and honey on a hot Summer’s Day.”

“Enough of your foolishness!”

“Sorry lady,” Violet shrugged, glare intensifying, “my foolishness makes up my entire character.”

“You’re no better than your swine of a brother,” Betty seethed, moving sharply away from her seat and aiming towards Bruce.

“Fucking right I’m not. Billy had the patience to deal with you day in and day out without losing his fucking mind.” Violet responded flatly, taking a huge step to stop Betty’s escape. “Then again, he did steal from the Avengers which ended with you orchestrating his murder, so maybe he didn’t.”

“He died because he murdered my child!”

“Your mouth flinched again,” Violet pointed out.

 _Yes_ , Natasha gnashed her teeth, _yes it did_.

James began to growl. Steve started to move forward. Natasha put a hand on their shoulders. Whispering softly. “Wait to see what she does.”

“Stop this!” Betty tried moving passed Violet, but the awe-inspiring Omega blocked Betty with each step. “Why they ever considered you to be a Chosen I’ll never know.”

“You and me both,” Violet got into Betty’s face. “Why pull in one shitbag off the street when they already have another shitbag pulling on their strings?”

“Get out of my way, and do not ever speak to me again!” Betty raised her voice, lifting her chin slightly to look down her nose at Violet.

Oh no. No fucking way. No one looks at her Chosen like that. NO ONE. Natasha dropped her hands from Steve and James shoulders, moving to march past them when the unthinkable happened.

Violet raised her hand. Palm out, raised high. STOP. The universal sign that couldn’t be missed by anyone who could see it. And Natasha did stop. She stopped for Violet. As did James and Steve who moved in tandem with Natasha. They stopped, and they watched.

“Okay,” Violet stated abruptly, “I can do that.”

Natasha’s mouth dropped slightly. Wait, what? What is she doing?

“What are you doing?!” Peter sounded behind them, eyes wide and frantic. Pietro looked pained and suspicious from his position on the ground.

Violet didn’t turn around. Not good.

“I can do that,” she cocked her head, those starry eyes boring into Betty’s cold blues, “if you answer two questions honestly for me.”

“Your brother died because he murdered my unborn child,” Betty snarled, arrogantly daring to lean into Violet’s space. “Must I repeat it again so you’re sleep addled brain can retain this information better?

“Your mouth flinched again,” Violet stated plainly, “and he’s not involved in either of my questions. Questions that are surprisingly science based. Or rather, biology based. Or is it anatomy?”

Betty scoffed. “And you think this is the best time to ask me these questions? After accusing me of such abhorrent behavior and treating me like some common criminal you met in the street?”

Violet blinked, “Considering you don’t ever want to speak to me again after this, I figured yes. Also, you’re a Doctor/Scientist. Why not?”

“I’m not that kind of Doctor.” Betty growled.

“Tomato, _Tomato_.” Violet waved it off, “want to get rid of me or what?”

The baby started crying, face rubbing with need against Betty’s white, silk blouse. The woman didn’t even flinch. Staring Violet down like she was some disgusting disease. Natasha couldn’t wait to rip her fucking face off her bones. That is, if Bruce didn’t get in the way.

“Ask away.” The woman replied coldly. Natasha clenched her fists. James grabbed one of his many hidden knives. Steve steadied his stance, ready to jump into action. The Guardians glared the shit out of Betty. Clint and Rocket looked ready to murder her. Rhodey stood tall with his arms crossed over his chest, watching Betty with a severely displeased expression. Tony hovered behind Peter, watching the Omega with the most avid of interest, though his eyes flickered towards Bruce now and again.

Bruce, the man who shifted into “The Hulk”, appeared most conflicted. Rage and doubt warred in his expression. The same expression Natasha has seen many a time after his other side was reigned in. The rage most certainly came from his darker counterpart, leaving the doubt Natasha saw all Bruce’s doing. He was doubting something, but what? Was it Violet? Was it his wife? Was it the entire situation?

Violet stepped forward, moving barely an inch, tilted her head back and smiled mischievously. “What color combinations do Brown eyes and Blue eyes make?”

Betty flinched. “Pardon?”

“You heard my question.” Violet shot back nonchalantly, unaware of the looks on her friends faces that questioned her sanity. Natasha didn’t. Violet doesn’t do things without reason. That she did know about her darling. “Now answer it.”

“Yes,” Natasha spoke up, ignoring the sharp looks from around the room as she took two sharp steps forward, staring down the Omega with an equally sharp, cold look. “Answer her question.”

Betty paled. Good. About time she grew scared. She swallowed. Loud and noisily. Red blossoming on her cheeks in an ugly blush as a result. “The combinations are quite simple. Merely different shades of brown or blue, sometimes forming hazel, should a child be born.”

Violet nodded slightly, seemingly unsurprised. “Yeah, that’s similar to what my Biology Teacher said. Only he normally followed it up with, “ _if you really want to know, go find a brown eyed Alpha and figure it out yourself._ ” Thanks for not taking that approach, I probably would have broken your nose if you weren’t holding a baby.” She gestured suddenly to the baby. “He’s hungry by the way. You might want to feed him before I ask my next question.”

“He’ll be fine,” Betty stated coldly. “Ask away so I can be done with you.”

“Mind your tone,” James growled behind Natasha.

Natasha smirked, enjoying watching Betty pale considerably more. “He won’t warn you again.”

Betty looked sharply at Bruce, but the Good Doctor has not moved from his spot. Too conflicted to make a choice. Her chin wobbled, chest rising considerably as she took a deep breath. Arms shifting to get a better grasp on her son. “Please ask your second question.”

Violet didn’t answer immediately, eyes staring warily at James and Natasha. They both stared back at her, eyes pleading with her starry ones. Pleading wordlessly for her to forgive them. To give them another chance. To allow them to help her. She bit her lip, switched her gaze to Steve, and Natasha melted when her eyes softened the slightest bit. Yes, Natasha urged, see him. See him as he sees you.

Then Violet looked away, and those starry eyes landed on Peter.

It felt like a long time the surrogate siblings stared at one another. Violet became just as conflicted as Bruce only with reluctance instead of rage, while Peter’s face was covered in tears. The leaking brown eyes pleaded with her more so than she and James ever could. “Please,” he mumbled. Her shoulders lagged once more at that. Natasha wanted to get between them. To shove Peter away for the effect he has on her. Violet should never feel defeated. Hopeless. Should never feel as she does now, and her own brother was the one putting her through this.

Not anymore.

“Violet,” Steve asked in a soft voice, expertly containing his flinch when Violet stiffened considerably at his tone. “What is it you want to ask her?”

Her chosen took a deep breath. Looked at Peter for another solid moment, watching as Peter pleaded, “please” once more, and then clenched her jaw, facing Betty once more.

“You have blue eyes,” Violet stated bluntly, “and Bruce over there has Brown eyes.”

“Yes,” Betty answered carefully, “why should that matter?”

“Because your child has green eyes, and even with multiple miscarriages, that shouldn’t be possible with parents that only have blue eyes and brown eyes.” Violet cocked an eyebrow, watching Betty with the utmost attention. “And though the Hulk does have these electric green eyes when he emerges, I highly doubt they’re a genetic trait that can be passed to a child since he’s not the primary host. Bruce is, and Bruce has brown eyes. Unless we’re both somehow incorrect with our initial answers?”

Betty’s eyes popped like a fish before she could stop them, face white as a sheet, a sheen of sweat appearing on her forehead. Natasha felt her own eyes widen, immediately shifting them from the fright in Betty’s eyes to the son who fussed and cried in her arms. She tried to see the son’s eyes. Betty shielded him from the sudden onslaught of eyes. Shielding herself more likely. Determined to find the truth, Natasha looked back to Violet. There was steel in those wonderful eyes, steel and grim resolve that could only mean one thing. Natasha exhaled sharply.

Oh My God. Violet’s right. He’s not Bruce’s child. Betty played him, played us. Which begs the question.

What else was she lying about?

The stares in the room grew infinitely more heated. Angrier. Furious. Murderous. Growls emanated from multiple Alphas. James included. He, Steve, and Natasha moved in tandem to get closer to Violet. The Guardians moved also. Rocket moving in to put a hand on Violet’s shoulder, same with Clint who moved to her other side. She let them do so, almost leaning into their muted comfort. Peter’s mouth completely dropped. Pietro gingerly stood to his feet, cupping his aching manhood. “Fucking bitch. Is there nothing you won’t do?”

“How dare you,” Betty responded brokenly, eyes taking in the current state of the room. “What are you all doing? Why in the world would you side with this– this waste of an Omega over one of your own?”

“I suggest you take Violet’s advice,” Rhodey growled subtly, moving past Peter and glaring daggers at the woman, “and shut up. Clearly, speaking hasn’t gotten you anywhere today.”

“I’ve been here for years,” Betty continued as if she hadn’t heard him. “I’ve served as a Chosen, gave you all my experiments and ideas, sacrificed everything and everyone I’ve ever loved for this place, for this team, and you’re going to take the word of a delinquent who has no desire to be here over mine?”

“Well, you’re not wrong about the delinquent part.” Violet shrugged, unblinkingly staring the woman down.

“It’s hard to take the word of someone who’s shaking like a leaf and ignoring her newborn son,” Clint grated, face stonelike and unyielding, “versus someone who might not want to be here, but has made life so much better by being here anyway. The same person who has pointed out that your son is hungry, yet you continue to ignore him.”

Violet narrowed her eyes, face contorting slightly in a way that indicated she didn’t quite believe him. Oh sweetie, we’re going to fix that. Otherwise, she didn’t respond.

“Let’s not forget all the times you referred to us as second-class citizens, and people who gave our second genders bad names. Myself in particular.” Rocket gestured towards the Guardians, blatantly flipping her off as he did.

“You called me a bad Omega because I wasn’t tending to Tony,” Peter cut in, bottom lip quivering, “and then justified being a good one because your Alpha wasn’t available even though he’s standing not two feet from you at the time.”

“You ordered Violet’s brother to be butchered, tortured, and then murdered over something he didn’t even do.” Pietro grated, carefully moving closer to confront the threatened woman.

“He murdered my child!” Betty backed away, tightening her grip on her son, causing him to scream even more.

“How?” Violet asked softly, drawing all eyes back on her. “How did he kill your child?”

Betty exhaled sharply. “He pushed me down the stairs.”

“You pushed yourself down the stairs!” Peter yelled.

“Preposterous!” Betty screamed, breath picking up, eyes frantic. “Why would I do that to myself?!”

“Because you’re a lying whore,” a strangled voice spoke up. A dark, broken voice from the edge of the room far away from everyone else. Betty gasped at the sound, backing up until she hit the wall. Eyes popping, lips trembling, body shaking with pure, unadulterated fear. Everyone turned to face it, and only Violet remained still at the sight before them.

 _Oh shit_ , Natasha thought as she moved directly next to Violet, waving off Clint as James and Steve quickly joined her. Violet resolutely ignored them, even when Natasha placed a firm, gentle hand on the small of her back. She didn’t move away either. Just focused on the newest threat in the room.

An inch or so taller than normal due to straightening out from Bruce’s natural hunch, the man that used to be Bruce tore off Bruce’s glasses and threw them against the wall. Breaking them upon impact. His fists clenched impossibly tight, knuckles threatening to break through the skin, green veins appearing everywhere. Particularly around the eyes. Eyes that shifted from Bruce’s murky and depleted brown to an electric, bottle green. Teeth bared, harsh growls clawing up his chest.

The Hulk is here. The dark, demented, and vile version of the Good Doctor was here. Those eyes, those terrifying eyes and all the rage burning through them, were directed towards Betty. Natasha moved her hand to grip Violet’s waist, ready to pull her away at a moment’s notice. James and Steve moved to do the same, Rocket as well.

Violet didn’t move, all her attention on The Hulk as he began to move forward.

“I always knew it would turn out like this.” He rumbled, voice low and menacing. “Always knew you’d look elsewhere for a child.”

Betty started crying, mascara running as she forced out, “A-Alpha, p-p-please. D-Don’t.”

“You never wanted us,” he continued darkly, pushing forward with slow, methodical movements. “Just what you could get. Just the power. Always the power.”

“Alpha, no!”

“He’s going to kill her,” Violet whispered, starting to pull from the Alphas' grasp.

“She’s his Omega,” James leaned in close, murmuring softly in her ear, “we can’t get involved. It’s his choice.”

“Maybe _you_ can’t,” she growled.

“You’re not worthy of being my chosen,” The Hulk growled, moving faster through the room, right where The Guardians like the red sea.

“Alpha! Please!”

“Violet, don’t!” Steve shouted, reaching out to keep a hold on Violet.

Too late.

Before she could stop it, Violet slipped from their combined grasp. Away from Natasha and James. Past Steve, Rocket and Clint. Rushing through Quill and Drax. Gingerly pushing past Peter while forcibly pushing Tony to the ground. Dodging Pietro and Rhodey. The Hulk charged the last few feet to Betty, hands reaching out to grab her until they were abruptly slapped away. Two hands landed on his chest shoved away with the strength only she could possess. Surprise momentarily took over the rage in The Hulks eyes as the demented thing fell backwards, but caught himself on the edge of the pool table before he ended up on the floor. The rage returned, shifting from Betty to the newest obstacle.

Violet. An Omega with a warrior’s heart stood tall and defiant in front of the woman she just exposed to The Avengers, a woman who deserved to be punished for all her wrongdoings, and was hell bent on protecting. Natasha felt her mouth drop in awe as confusion rolled through her mind.

Why would Violet help this woman? The woman who had a hand in ruining her life. Why? Why would she?

“Out of my way,” The Hulk growled, pushing away from the pool table and charging towards Betty once more.

“No fucking chance,” Violet returned darkly, positioning herself directly in front of Betty who had sunk to her knees in paralytic fear.

“I won’t warn you again,” his growl deepened, fists clenching painfully.

“Neither will I,” her voice became unrecognizable. Those stars darkened the slightest bit.

Natasha, James, and Steve all rushed forward, but it came to nothing. Hulk was too close. Too fast. They weren’t going to make it. He was going to-

“ **STOP IT!!!** ” Was screamed in a sharp, earth shattering tone that rocked Natasha and seemingly everyone around her to the core. Vibrating, pulsing, like the heavy beat of the bass in a nightclub with the pitch of a wailing guitar solo. It was shocking, sudden, and sent all the Alphas in the room to their knees. Kneeling and cowering with the weight of the command and the sheer will that fueled it.

Including the Hulk.

Once charging with the intent to kill, now he cowered on his knees. Hands over his ears, nails clawing into his skull. He moaned in pain. Each time his voice sounded more and more humane. More like Bruce. Within a few minutes Hulk will have disappeared, and Bruce will take hold once more, but at what cost? Will it even change anything?

There was a beat of silence. No one spoke. Barely breathed for fear it would cause another shattering command to bend them further. Natasha wanted to look around, find the source of the earth-shattering tone.

Then she did, and it was not who she expected.

Out of everyone in the room, only two stood while the rest either kneeled or hunched away from the pair. Violet stood tall and defiant, but the steel was gone from her eyes. Replaced with worry, and a strange wetness that could only come from a breaking heart. Forehead crinkled in concern. Hands twitching, itching to reach out to the only other person who remained standing.

Peter.

Hunched over, arms wrapped tight around his torso. Almost like he was trying to hold himself together. Tears continued to fall down his face, leaving near permanent tracks down his cheeks as he cried, and cried, and cried. “Stop it. Please . . . just stop it.”

Natasha felt her eyes pop wide open.

It was Peter.

Peter did this.

“Don’t hurt her,” Peter’s voice broke, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “Don’t hurt my sister.”

Violet sighed and moved out of her protective stance in front of Betty. Slowly, purposefully, Violet walked towards her brother. Her aching, shaking, breaking brother. With the utmost of care, Violet placed her hands on the tops of Peter’s arms and pulled him in close. Tucking his head against her chest. Resting her chin on his hair. Holding tight in an undoubtedly warm embrace. “He won’t. Not anymore.”

“He was,” Peter muttered brokenly.

“Yeah,” Violet spoke softly, smoothly. Hiding how unnerved she truly is by how stiff her jaw was. How she refused to blink as tears welled up in her eyes. “You stopped him though.”

“I did?”

“You did,” Violet closed her eyes, face flinching as a single tear dropped down her cheek. Keeping her voice level and calm. “You totally did.”

Peter shuffled deeper into her embrace, breathing slowing down, going deeper and deeper. “I’m really tired.”

“You should get some rest then.” Violet offered, pressing her lips to his messy locks. “Take a nap. Be out for an hour or two. Wake up to the smell of your Aunt’s Cherry Pie, and Pietro’s muffins.”

Peter closed his eyes, sniffling slightly, but smiled all the same. “You’ll be there when I wake up?”

“Bet your ass I will,” Violet promised, and Peter hiccupped against her chest. “I’ll be there. Now get some rest. You’ve earned it.”

“Okay” Peter mumbled sleepily.

Natasha counted a total of 13 seconds when Peter’s head lolled uncontrollably, and his body turned into an unconscious ragdoll. Violet held on tight, refusing to let him fall, and instead took the opportunity to carry him to the nearest chair. Cautiously laying him out on the soft cushion.

There was another beat of silence. All eyes on Violet as they watched her carefully situation her dear brother. She didn’t say anything. Didn’t look at anyone except for Peter. Barely moved once Peter was seemingly asleep on the surprisingly comfy chair. Natasha watched the rise and fall of her darling’s chest, amazed she wasn’t taking the liberty to ogle and undress her as she normally would. Instead, she merely counted the breaths Violet took. Deep and slow breaths.

1 breath.

8 breaths.

15 breaths.

22 breaths.

27 breaths.

On breath 34, Violet stood from her kneeling perch next to Peter’s dozing form and did the most shocking thing of the night.

She turned to Natasha.

“What the Hell just happened to him?”

 _Here’s my chance_ , Natasha thought before forcing herself to stand. “That was an Omega Cry. A common tool in an Omegas limited arsenal, but rarely ever used.”

“Why?”

“Because it can be incredibly hard to access given the type of environment the Omega lives in,” Natasha started, forcing her legs to move towards her Chosen. “The safer and more loved an Omega feels, the more impossible it becomes to utilize that tool. It’s caused by a heavy combination of adrenaline and emotional distress. Prime example being our current situation.”

Violet bit her lip, mulling that over. “So, if I were to put two Omegas together. One from the suburbs of some Middle-Class town versus one who lives in the equivalent of a concentration camp, the latter would have a better chance of accessing it?”

“Accessing? Yes. Utilizing it, no.” Natasha continued to push forward, eyes straying to The Hulk’s depleting form. “Better access doesn’t necessarily mean better handler so to speak. When an Omega makes it’s Cry, it uses every ounce of energy they have to tame the entire room and alert those around them they, or someone they care about, are in serious danger. Afterwards, just like what happened here, the Omega in question passes out and is left even more vulnerable after signaling to all who can hear them that they are in dire need of assistance.”

“And turning themselves into dinner for all the hungry wolves who lie in wait,” her stare grew more pointed, “which won’t be happening here.”

Natasha smirked, resolute and unoffended by the direct comment. “As you wish.”

Violet rolled her eyes, turning away without another word. Natasha’s smirk grew. A small victory on her part. Just as it arrived, her smirk soon fell, and her heart picked up its pace.

With a quick, gentle pat on Peter’s head, Violet moved swiftly passed his chair and aimed straight for the slumped of what used to be The Hulk. Natasha followed quickly, watching from the corner of her eye as the Alphas in the room started to rise one by one.

All except for The Hulk, who appeared to no longer be in control.

Violet slowly sank to the ground until she sat directly in front of the broken, shaking man. The green of his protruding veins was gone. His knuckles no longer threatened to break through his skin. Eyes, the electric, bottle green eyes, had disappeared. All that was left was Bruce’s murky brown. It was him. He was back.

“Dr. Banner,” Violet spoke softly, remaining still as a statue. “Is it you?”

He didn’t respond at first. Focusing on his breathing, just like Violet and most of the room. It took him a minute, solid minute of empty silence, before he finally removed his hands from his face, and looked at Violet fully.

“What happened?” His asked scratchily, voice damaged from the sudden emergence of The Hulk.

“Um . . .” Violet shrugged awkwardly, “you kind of Hulked out?”

“No, I-I know that- I know that much.” Bruce corrected gently. “I mean . . . what really happened? That day with Billy?” He put his elbows on his knees, clasping his rough and calloused hands together. “What really happened?”

Violet glanced back at Peter’s dozing form one last time, eyes filled with so much reluctance and doubt it was a wonder she didn’t exploded with the terrible emotions. She took a deep breath, a firm resolve taking place before those starry eyes glanced at the ground, and back onto Bruce. Natasha felt herself tense, waiting for the next bomb to drop.

And boy did they get it.

The next few minutes were filled with the story of what supposedly, yet undoubtedly occurred based on the reigned in pain on Violet’s face and Betty increasing panic on hers, happened that day over five years ago. Five minutes of Violet holding back the overwhelming pain Natasha knew she must be going through, fighting to keep her voice even and strong while voicing the facts of what she witnessed special courtesy to Dr. Strange. The Doctor who was currently at work pouring over Violet’s files and finding her a suitable therapist through his more “peaceful” connections from his rather eccentric past. Hence his unfortunate absence during this whole debacle.

She told Bruce what Natasha had no doubt to be the truth. She told him what Billy was doing, what he was trying to run from, and what really happened when Betty got involved. Told him how she cornered Billy, picked a fight with him, pushed him and screamed at him when he wouldn’t push her back. How she looked at the stairs, smiled like a maniac, and then threw herself down them like she had nothing left to live for. She gave as many facts as she could, kept her opinions out of the equation for the most part, and answered Bruce’s questions as honestly as she could.

“Where’s the video?” Bruce now questioned, voice hollow and broken after Violet’s terrible explanation.

“In FRIDAY’s servers somewhere,” Violet answered promptly, tone flat and drained as everything began to come to a close. “Same with the official document with the original report of her miscarriage.”

“Why couldn’t you show us again?”

“Because Betty enacted the damn protocol and ordered all footage and proof of her nefarious deeds to be destroyed so it could never be used against her, and the only way around it is with me, the only person who shockingly meets all the qualifications, to use the same protocol and order it to be used or some bullshit like that.”

“Why didn’t you use it?”

“Because FRIDAY said enacting the protocol would mean I’d essentially be accepting, which I’m definitely not,” she growled towards a nearby Stark Pad, scaring the shit out of Tony who was hovering behind Peter’s chair and staring at the boy like he hung the moon. “The roll of being a Chosen. Which is a big no go for me. I’d rather stand butt naked out in the cold until I freeze to death and lay forgotten in the woods somewhere.”

Bruce nodded, glancing at Tony with a look that could only mean one thing.

_It’s time._

“I have one more question for you, if you don’t mind answering,” Bruce asked softly.

“As long as it’s not about Anatomy or Biology. You’ve already heard the extent of my knowledge with those two fields.” Violet ran a hand through her hair. ‘I’d probably just avoid science all together.”

Bruce hummed at that. Amused. Not happy or content. But amused nonetheless. “Why would you go out of your way to protect someone who doesn’t deserve it?”

Her response was surprisingly quick. She’s been asked this before. “Who else was going to?”

“No one,” Bruce answered just as quickly.

“Exactly,” she stood back to her feet, extending a hand to Bruce, “and personally, I’ve seen enough death to last me a lifetime. I won’t stand by while more gets added to the pile of bodies, even when they deserve it.”

Bruce stared at the hand in shock. Natasha felt a pang through her heart. She couldn’t remember a time someone offered a hand to him, to any Avenger, like Violet was doing right now. He took it with utmost of care and allowed her to help pull him to his feet. Eyes wide with shock.

“Which brings us back to our original conundrum,” Violet stated frankly as she gestured towards Betty. “Just because she’s a manipulative bitch and psycho killer doesn’t mean I’m going to let you kill her.”

Violet released Bruce’s hand, and moved back to her original position in front of the frozen Betty, protecting the woman as she did before. Everyone in the room watched the Omega in shock. Natasha herself couldn’t believe this was really happening right now. Meanwhile, Bruce looked positively broken.

“I don’t want to kill her,” Bruce admitted shakily.

“Then help me figure out the right solution,” Violet offered.

And, somehow, they did.

Neither left the room, but together Bruce and Violet exchanged in whispers, whispers so faint not even Natasha could catch what they were saying. The Guardians took over Violet’s protective stance in front of Betty. Rocket keeping his eyes on her at all times, Clint standing right next to him but with his back to Betty. All his focus and attention on Violet and the room in front of him. Tony and Rhodey took residence around Peter’s sleeping form, Tony’s attention completely consumed by him while Rhodey kept his eyes on Tony and Violet. Thor and Loki vacated to the bar area where they started laying glass after glass and filling them with all sorts of liquor combinations. Thor created a makeshift ice bag and handed it to Pietro as he took resident on once of the barstools, placing gingerly against his aching manhood. Steve flinched at the sight, but otherwise remained still, his attention the same place as Natasha and James.

Violet.

They watched her every movement. Every twitch. Every breath. Each slight shift in her expression. They watched, and they watched, aching to hold her close and bring her comfort. Pleasure. Safety. Anything she needed or desired or both. They wished for it. Yearned for it.

Will they ever get to do it?

The silent conversation between Bruce and Violet seemed to last forever, but in reality it was only a few minutes. Before long the two parted, nodded to one another, and then Bruce suddenly aimed towards Betty while Violet lagged behind, nodding the Guardians to allow him to pass. Despite the surprised looks on their faces, the parted for the pair of them, leaving Betty a writhing, crying mess on the floor.

The baby, her son, was still crying and crying against her chest. She paid him no mind. Holding him to her chest like he were a human shield she would use to defend herself in a moments notice. As Bruce got closer, her shaking got worse and worse. Her hands readjusted the grip on her child again and again. Suddenly, just when it looked like she was going to do something terrible, Bruce finally spoke.

“ **Betty** ,” He spoke deeply, darkly. His Alpha tone. Natasha looked over to Violet. She didn’t look happy, but she wasn’t stopping this either. “ **Give me the child**.”

Betty immediately relaxed at the tone. No shakes, no twitches, no tears. Just her stillness. Like a zombie. She followed his order mindlessly, handing over her son like he were nothing more than piece of bread. Bruce took him gently, glancing up to Mantis and asking, “will you get him some milk? It’s in my bag near the fireplace?”

She nodded happily, and practically skipped away from the group. As she did, Bruce turned his attention back to Betty.

“ **I won’t kill you. No one here will kill you, hurt you, maim you, or cause you harm ever again. You will never see these people again. Never see anyone in this room again, except for your son.** ” He gestured to the ailing baby in his arms. The same baby whose cries began to soften as Bruce rocked him gently. “ **No one here will hurt you, just as you will never hurt anyone again.** ”

Mantis returned with the milk, gingerly handing it to Bruce at the Alpha continued. “ **You’ll never speak or reveal anything of the secrets you know of The Avengers, of their Chosens, of the places you been, seen, or helped create. You’ll never speak of it to anyone or anything. Everything you know, everything you’ve seen, heard or spoke of in the past will stay in your head and never be revealed again.** ” He stopped suddenly, glancing back at Violet who nodded in encouragement. He took a deep breath, settling his gaze on Betty once more. “ **As of this moment, you are no longer my Chosen. For the crimes you committed against Billy Russo, I will rename your child, our child, after him. No longer will he be Parker Mason Banner. From this day, until the end of his days, he’ll be Billy Parker-Mason Banner. Honoring the three Omegas who brought to light what kind of person you truly are.** ”

He abruptly stood up, adjusting the bottle and checking the temperature before placing it carefully into the boys mouth. “ **My love for you, and Violet’s beliefs, are the only reason you get to see tomorrow. Know that. Know, and remember, that Violet Mason is the only one who stood up for you when not even I would.** ”

“I did not tell you to say that” Violet growled, expression displeased.

Bruce ignored her. “ **You owe her your life, and you will repay that debt in exile for the rest of your days. Alone.** ” He turned around to face James and Natasha. “You two will escort her to the plane. FRIDAY?”

“Yes Dr. Banner?” The robotic voice sounded from the Stark Pad laying forgotten on the table. Natasha didn’t miss how Violet glared at it.

“Please inform Pepper and Happy that we have another exile coming to them. Please make sure they know of the special importance of her.”

“Understood,” the robotic tone confirmed.

Bruce turned back towards Violet. “Thank you, Violet.”

“You’re welcome, I guess” Violet shrugged, “she better see her fucking kid. Not for her sake, but for that little boy’s. I only had one parent growing up, and that leaves a mark on a child. He needs to be around his mother just as much as he needs to be with his Dad.” Violet gestured to Bruce’s chest, her expression firm and unyielding. “You can hate her all you want, but don’t forget that.”

“I won’t,” Bruce vowed, chin trembling the slightest bit.

Violet nodded, then turned away without another word. She pointed towards the bar where Thor and Loki watched expectantly. “You guys in charge of the bar tonight?”

“We are indeed,” Loki grinned mischievously.

“Good,” she turned away and headed towards the spot where Peter was napping. “Do me a favor?”

“Anything you desire shall be rewarded to you, our resident hero,” Loki stated sensually, eyeing Violet in a rather dangerous way. Natasha narrowed her eyes as a result.

Violet, however, rolled her eyes. Arms slipping under Peter’s body, she swiftly slung his arm over her shoulder, and picked him up out of her chair. As gingerly and carefully as she could, she started carrying his deadweight towards the hallway that led to kitchen. Just as she passed the bar, she uttered one single command. A command that made Natasha want to laugh and think very salacious thoughts.

“Hide the rum.”

(Telling Violet Thank you)

(Talking at the bar, though not as obvious)

(Getting frustrated)

(Peter crying)

(Ignore the Dialogue in the Picture)

(Walking forward to comfort Peter)

.

.

.

.

And of course

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! I got through this hurdle, and now I can get back to the fun and games that is drunken shenanigans and dealing with the next bit of plot that is to come sooner than we think. Ergo. DRINKING NIGHT!!! :D :D :D So excited! I wonder what all Violet and the rest of them are going to get up to during this time. Maybe give Bucky some alone time with Violet for a bit. Maybe Steve? Natasha? How drinking games that lead to a striptease act? Only one way to find out XD.
> 
> Again, I appreciate you all so much! Thank you again for reading my story and sticking with it this far! You're amazing! 
> 
> Also, please leave me a comment and let me know what you guys think!


	27. Drunken Lullabies: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violet's headspace, and a tease of what's to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! This is not a full chapter. This is a snippet of the chapter that is to come. To get myself back on some semblance of a posting schedule, I'm going to try to post a chapter or a snippet every week because I hate leaving you guys hanging. Like, I really fucking hate it. It's one of my biggest pet peeves about reading unfinished works because I never know if it's going to be finished or not, which really sucks when I'm super invested in the story. So, even though it irks me, I'd rather post a tiny snippet of the chapter I'm working on than leave you guys hanging for weeks on end for a chapter that could have been broken down into two or more smaller chapters. 
> 
> I appreciate you all so much, and I really hope you're okay with posting little snippets. Particularly this one ;).

Chapter 26

Drunken Lullabies: Part 1

_Violet_

“Where has all the rum gone?”

If anyone had told Violet a few weeks ago that she was going to party it up with the Avengers, play truth or dare with a bunch of sex fiends and murderers, temporarily give Peter the cold shoulder due to his low-key treachery, and willfully sit in Bucky Barnes lap, she would have punched the person’s lights out and then called Pietro to ship them to the nearest psych ward for evaluation. It was stupid. Ludicrous. The brainchild of some crazy, subpar author with too much time on her hands but not enough internet access to put it all down.

And yet, that’s exactly how the night went after Betty was officially dealt with thanks to Peter’s deviance and treachery, Pietro’s rage and insistence on reparation, and Violet’s surprising observation and a way out of becoming a Chosen. Betty was a piece of shit, deserves all she has coming to her, but Violet’s not going to let her die or be killed. She also wasn’t going to use that damn protocol and be trapped in the Avengers for the rest of her days over this bitch either. She had to think of another way, she needed to think of another way. Through unfortunate means, she found one.

She hated to admit it, but if Peter hadn’t pulled that stunt and opted to submit to Tony Fucking Stark willfully in order to deal with Betty, Violet might not have noticed Parker-Mason’s, now Billy Parker-Mason’s, green eyes and quickly searched her brain for any significance to the sudden find. She’s never been so grateful to actually remember something from Biology class. Brown eyes and blue eyes don’t equal green. Betty should have thought of that before cheating on the one person who was ready to vouch for her. Violet also wouldn’t have remembered the long overdue punishment she needed to give out due to Bucky and Natasha for breaking their promise forever ago. The punishment Bruce dished out for her by forcing the pair to escort Betty to Pepper and Happy so she can be permanently placed in exile. Whatever that meant. She wouldn’t have thought of a lot of things if he hadn’t done that.

But he did, and her mind went into Hyperdrive as a result.

She should feel more pissed off. She knows she should. She should be screaming at him for putting himself into that situation after all the shit they’ve been through to get them out and away from those bastards. She should be throwing glasses. Breaking tables. Pouring gasoline in the fireplace and watching it explode before the flames consume her and everyone around her (except for Peter and Pietro, Wanda too if she were in the room). She should be completely and absolutely fucking furious. Betrayed. So many things.

She’s not though. She’s not furious. She’s not even angry. Hurt? Yes, but it’s not that strong. She feels . . . feels . . .

Unsurprised? Like what Peter just did was almost inevitable? Like his actions today were just hard proof of what their future would be. Peter submitting and taking the easy choice because it’s the path of least resistance, Pietro yelling and screaming about an injustice while making moon eyes at a hottie across the room (like Violet could miss that), and Violet fighting for something everyone else believed was a waste of time and not worth the effort while trying to convince them “yes! It’s fucking worth it! Assholes!”. Well, if that was to be the case, fuck them all.

Violet’s going to keep fighting.

Right after she finishes her fourth rum and coke.

Maybe that’s all the rum went?

If so, that would explain a lot.

A lot.

Especially why she’s still sitting in Bucky Barnes lap, completely alone and away from the castle, and allowing him to kiss her scent mark.

Then again, it could just be the stars, because her rum and coke is nowhere to be found. 

(Wonder what she's staring at?)

(Do we need to guess who he's staring at? XD)

(Same with her?)

(Dammit Peter XD)

(Party time!)

(Me too Steve XD Me too)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there's the snippet! Hope you guys enjoyed it and are thoroughly excited for the shenanigans to ensue :D I for one am most excited to write it XD. Please leave me a comment and let me know what you think! 
> 
> Best wishes to all of you. I hope you're doing okay during these hard times. 
> 
> Also, this is long overdue, but RIP to Chadwick Boseman. King T'Challa could not have been represented better. You will be missed.


	28. Drunken Lullabies: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violet bakes, and gets drunks while she's doing it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little late, but way better than what I've been been doing XD. Here's technically Part 1 of the chapter. It's not as long as my previous stuff, but it serves as the official beginning of the drinking night! Hope you guys enjoy! Thank you so much for reading! :D

Chapter 27

Drunken Lullabies Part 2

_Violet_

The night officially started when Pietro hobbled into the kitchen with the now melted ice pack still pressed against his groin. Violet was filling muffin tins with the blueberry muffin filling she haphazardly mixed due to her agitated state of mind, and because she wasn’t entirely sure what ingredients she actually used. All the labels were written in Swedish. Violet didn’t know Swedish. Some days she felt like she didn’t even know English.

Today’s one of them.

“Violet-” Pietro started gently, carefully pulling out the barstool and taking a seat.

“No hablo ingles,” Violet retorted, barely sparing him a glance as she checked to make sure he was sitting properly before continuing filling the muffin pan.

“Don’t be like that,” Pietro sighed, “that bitch needed to be handled. Punished for the shit she did-”

“I’m sorry,” Violet interrupted in a harsh, robotic tone, “the person you’re trying to reach is currently unavailable due to underhanded tactics and backstabbing friends. At the tone, please record your message.”

“Violet,” Pietro groaned. From the corner of her eye, she saw him rub a hand over his face in frustration.

She set the now empty bowl aside, picking up the pan and carrying it to the oven. “The tone has not been sounded. Please hold back your message until it has beeped.”

“Where’s Matt when you need him?” Pietro mumbled under his breath.

She opened the oven and placed the pan inside. “I don’t know, Pietro. Where were you idiots when I needed you?” She slammed the oven door shut. “Oh yeah, stabbing me in the back and signing up with the Avengers.”

“To be fair, that was all Peter. Not me.” Pietro held his hands in defense as Violet turned her steely gaze on him. Glaring at him, she reached out to grab the bottle of vodka she used to mix into the muffin batter. With her other hand she grabbed the two measuring cups she didn’t use and headed towards Pietro.

“Oh, so you weren’t making moon eyes over at Steve every chance you got?” Violet cocked an eyebrow, expression confused. Dropping the cups onto the countertop and unscrewing the lid on the vodka. “Why would you even do that anyway? The guy shoved his dick in your mouth and fucking assaulted you. Calling out my name or whatever weird shit was going on. Did he use the Alpha tone on you? Natasha?”

“He didn’t assault me,” Pietro quickly interjected as Violet started pouring, “Steve was trying to stop them, to protect me,” he emphasized, lowering his voice and widening his eyes to show Violet the importance of his clarification, “but they overpowered him. Us. We were already doing stuff before they came in, and all of it was perfectly consensual until The Widow and The Soldier got involved.”

“What stuff were you doing?” Violet grimaced, already hating herself for asking. She pushed one of the measuring cups towards Pietro and raised her own glass to him. They drank in tandem, grimacing at the taste before slamming their cups down.

“Stuff you used to boo at when we were watching True Blood,” Pietro smirked suddenly while Violet poured another shot for the pair, “only instead of the blood, I was drinking something else. Something salty yet sweet and filled me up so good-”

“Gross,” Violet shivered in disgust.

“Only to you,” Pietro laughed before continuing. “He didn’t do anything to me I didn’t want. They’re the ones that did it.” His hand gestured towards the hallway while the other grabbed his cup. “And the Widow is the one who used the Alpha tone on me.”

“Of course she did,” Violet rolled her eyes. Shaking her head as they took another shot together, leaning on the countertop to stare at Pietro directly as she put her cup back on the table and grabbed the vodka once more. “What did she make you do?”

“Answer a few questions she had for me. What I thought of Steve. How close you and I are. The color of your eyes. Was I just gay or did I swing both ways?” Pietro prattled on, but Violet stopped him.

“Wait, she asked you what color my eyes are?” Violet’s forehead crinkled at Pietro’s nod. “What is she? Colorblind?”

Pietro shrugged. “You know her better than I do.”

“Barely,” Violet conceded. “What did Bucky do?”

Pietro hummed. “He didn’t do anything to me. He kept talking to Steve, grabbing him, telling him things I didn’t quite catch. Something about a pack or whatever.”

“A pack?”

Pietro raised his hands slightly. “I don’t know. Like I said, I didn’t catch all of it. Natasha capitalized on what I was already feeling, made me hornier than I’ve ever been in my entire life-”

“Okay,” Violet interrupted, signaling him to get to his point as she poured the pair another shot.

“My point is, I didn’t understand most of what they were saying because I was preoccupied with getting Steve and myself off. They could have been talking about how Hello Kitty stole Nuclear bomb codes for Darth Vader, and I would have been none the wiser.”

“Well shit,” Violet grunted, exhaling sharply as she put the bottle aside and placed her head in her hands. “Is it bad I seriously consider that a possibility?”

“After all the shit you’ve been through these past few weeks alone? Not at all.” He reached out to grab Violet’s hand, but Violet pulled back. Glaring the shit out of him. “Violet, I’m sorry.”

“I get being angry.” Violet stated harshly, grabbing her cup, and pulling away to stand tall. “I get being pissed off. Being so frustrated and incensed that I just want to rip people’s heads off. I get it. I understand it. That doesn’t mean I get to use that anger, that frustration, to run off into the lion’s den and attempt to hurt one of their mates while they’re holding a baby and leaving my friend’s behind to deal with the aftermath. What aftermath might I be referring to? The aftermath of those fuckers murdering you for daring to touch one of their own.”

“I wasn’t thinking-”

“Of course you weren’t thinking! Neither of you were.” Violet pointed to the rolled-up heap that was Peter’s body napping away towards the edge of the counter. “Him especially.”

“We weren’t trying to betray you-”

“No shit,” Violet growled, “you were trying to meet out half-assed justice while our cinnamon roll here was trying to protect me by shacking up with the dude that tried to rape him. Like that’s so much better than you both grabbing knives and stabbing me in the back.” Violet sighed, shaking her head and turning away. “I’d rather you guys slit my throat and throw my twitching body into a fucking pit than be the reason anything happened to you two idiots.”

“I know that,” Pietro answered softly, “we know that.”

“Yet you did it anyway.” She walked away, drinking down her shot of vodka while rifling through the cupboards to find a pie plate. The dough was already made, just cooling away in the freezer. The filling was done too. The bowl of it was sitting out next to Peter’s dozing face.

“You know we feel the same way, right?” Pietro interjected, earning Violet’s steely gaze. “We’d rather something bad happen to us then to you. You know that. Right?”

“You have a funny way of showing it,” she turned back towards her search. Taking a deep breath to calm herself.

“How can I make it up to you?” Pietro asked suddenly, tone gentle and pleading. “How can I-we make this right? To show you we’re sorry?”

“I know you’re sorry,” Violet responded harshly, turning to glare at Pietro once more. “I know your intentions were good. I know you both were only trying to help in the best ways you can. I know that, and I’m grateful to you guys. Once again, it doesn’t change the fact that you guys were idiots and I had to pull a fucking miracle out of my ass to keep everyone alive and breathing. A miracle that almost didn’t happen.”

“What do you mean?”

She dropped the measuring cup onto the countertop. Bangs and clangs from the motion sounded throughout the kitchen. Pietro flinched at the sound, but otherwise remained still. Stare intense as he watched Violet moved back towards him.

“Do you have any idea how close I was to just giving in? To enacting the damn protocol so Peter wouldn’t feel pressured to latch onto Tony in order to protect me.” She leaned back against the countertop, staring Pietro eye to eye. “Way too fucking close. If Betty hadn’t started talking, we’d be running for our lives or fighting to the death or worse right now. We’d be absolutely fucked. Then Betty started talking, Peter started screaming, and you tried to go at her, and-” She exhaled sharply, shaking her head, hands clenching painfully tight. “It’s all one big, fucking shit show of epic proportions that landed at my feet, and all because you idiots couldn’t hold back for a few Goddamn minutes to help me figure out a plan.”

“Damn right I wasn’t going to hold back,” Pietro returned, a bit of steel in his tone. “If I did you would have found a way to not go after the bitch, even after all the shit she’s done to you.”

“What the fuck makes you think that?”

“Because I know you,” Pietro growled, “you would have used this golden opportunity to punish the person responsible for fucking up your life to form some half-assed escape plan. Use the shit you knew against her, and then blackmail her into getting the three of us out of here.”

“Oh c’mon, “Violet shot back, “that plan is full of holes. Give me a little more credit than that.”

“Fine,” Pietro acquiesced, “maybe not so obvious, but you can’t deny that was where your head was at.”

“Well yeah, that’s where my head was at, why else would I seriously consider the damn protocol?”

“And if we had gone through with that plan, Betty would have gotten away with it. The shit with Billy, having a baby with another man and pretending it was that Bruce guy’s, and generally being a shitty person with a very convincing facade. All of it. She would have gotten away with everything if I hadn’t jumped in headfirst.”

Violet sighed, corners of her mouth turned down in disgust. “Yeah. You got what you wanted. She’s punished. No one will believe her again. No one, except maybe Bruce, will think of her again. She’s fucked. She’s gone.” She leaned in close, eyes wild. “And we’re still here. Trapped. No way out. No one coming to save us. We’re on our own, and one of our own is this close,” she put her thumb and index finger together, “this close to throwing in the towel and signing on to the Avengers Mafia. Just like Wanda did. You happy now?” 

Pietro didn’t respond at first, eyes glancing at Peter’s dozing form on the countertop. “I didn’t think of it like that.”

“Clearly,” Violet pulled away once more. Grabbing the vodka and heading towards her measuring cup. “Am I just fighting the inevitable here?”

“What do you mean?”

She walked back over, pouring herself another shot before leaning over refilling Pietro’s, “Wanda’s been signed on and living the good life for who knows how fucking long. Tony’s been trying to get into Peter’s pants since day one, and now Peter’s starting to let him. You’re doing . . . whatever with Steve and giving him doe eyes every two seconds. Meanwhile, I’m trying to find a way to get everyone home and out of this shit, fighting off Natasha’s grabby hands and Bucky’s longing gazes and their scents constantly while I’m doing it, and no one’s fucking helping.” She paused, taking another shot. “It feels like I’m Jack Sparrow in his sinking boat, baling water with my bare hands, while Wanda’s waving from the top of The Black Pearl, Peter’s climbing aboard with a rope ladder while giving me sad eyes, and you’re about to jump my sinking ship. I try to peddle away and save who I can, but I can’t because you,” she jabbed a finger at Pietro accusatorily, “asshole, took my fucking oars. Leaving me to fucking doggy paddle to shore.”

“How did I take your oars?”

“By jumping in headfirst-” she flipped him off, “we already went over this.”

“Well, that was not my intention.”

“I’m well aware of that, but it still doesn’t change the effect of your actions.” She rubbed her face, taking a deep breath. “We’re stuck here with no way to get home because you acted without thinking shit through, Peter almost became an official Chosen tonight, and I’m fighting a losing battle keeping you guys away from the Avengers and their . . . sexual . . . whatever.” She paused, taking a breath before continuing in a choked voice. “On top of all that, I can’t sleep until I know Brea isn’t going to emerge in the middle of night and chop someone’s dick off. Fan-fucking-tastic.” Her hands went into her hair, pulling at the roots slightly, before resting her face against the cool countertop. “Must be Tuesday.”

Pietro grunted in amusement, leaning in close, resting his hand on top of her. He smiled when she slightly leaned into his touch. “Not quite yet.”

“Fuck,” she sighed, refusing to move.

“You’re not fighting a losing battle here, we’re just not on our game.” Pietro started, gently running his fingers along the back of her hand. “I’ve been playing catch up since I got here. Peter hasn’t been exposed to this kind of environment his entire life. Wanda’s trying to heal and found a surprisingly decent Alpha to help with that.”

“Jarvis _is_ pretty decent.” Violet mumbled. “For an Alpha anyway. He seems good for her.”

“I agree,” Pietro started petting her hair, “and maybe that’s why she wants the rest of us to have an Alpha.”

“Because she’s hoping they’ll be to us what Jarvis is for her,” Violet concluded, very unsurprised by it. “Fucking naive.”

“Yeah,” Pietro chuckled to himself. “Why did you mention their scents?”

“Hm?” Violet lifted her head slightly, looking at Pietro in confusion.

“When you mentioned fending off The Widow and The Soldier, you mentioned their scents. Why?”

“Oh,” Violet bit her lip, shrugged. “They smell good.”

Pietro’s eyes popped open, hand stilling. “They smell good?”

“Yeah,” her brow furrowed, “why do you ask?”

His mouth dropped. “Alphas never smell good to you.”

“Frank doesn’t smell bad,” Violet quickly defended.

“He doesn’t smell good though.” Pietro countered. “And since when can you smell? I thought your constant nosebleeds prevented you from smelling anything except copper?”

Violet froze, humming slightly. “I don’t know. Maybe after I was dosed with the faux heat drug when HYDRA douchebags tried infiltrating the tower?”

Pietro’s mouth dropped lower. “What?!”

“Again, not drunk enough.” She shook her head. “I’ll tell you later.”

“Fine,” Pietro sighed, rolling his eyes. “What are their scents like?”

Violet groaned, pushing up from the table to lean on her elbows, “why is it so important to you?”

“I know I have no right to say this, but please? Just indulge me.” Pietro dared to pull out his puppy dog eyes, along with pouty lips.

“You’re a dick,” Violet rolled her eyes, “and speaking of dicks. Next time you decide to pull the shit you did today, I’m gonna punch you in the dick so hard your fucking balls will explode. You got it?”

“Yes ma’am,” Pietro nodded seriously, or as seriously as he could while wearing his ridiculous expression, while pressing his melted ice pack further onto his groin. “Please tell me?”

She sighed, biting her lip. “Who do you want to know first?”

“The Soldier.” Pietro wiggled his eyebrows.

Violet shook her head. “Whiskey. Straight up whiskey next to a smoking fireplace with cedar wood burning. Cinnamon apples, pages from books, and falling rain. Kind of reminds me of a cabin in the woods. Not the cliché horror flick scenario, but like escaping into the wilderness for some quiet. Peace of mind. Something like that.”

“Whiskey, huh?” Pietro smirked. “Didn’t you say your Dad smelled like that?”

“He smelled like Honey Whiskey. That nasty ass honey whiskey with an extra jar of honey right next to it. It was way too sweet. Too . . . ugh.” Violet shivered in disgust. “As a kid I probably really liked it, what with the honey and all, but after a night out at the strip club with Darcy I can’t fucking stand the stuff.” Well, except in her nightmares where it provided her a small amount of comfort.

“When did you go to a strip club? And who is this Darcy character?”

Violet waved him off, “tell you later. I’m still not drunk enough. Especially for that story.”

“Duly noted,” Pietro leaned in slightly. “How about The Widow?”

“Red wine and orange slices with hints of cayenne pepper,” she stated plainly, pursing her lips slightly as she continued. “Fresh bread just pulled out of the oven. Saffron, honey, rose petals, and newly fallen snow.”

“Eclectic combination,” Pietro hummed.

“Eclectic personality,” Violet shrugged. “Makes me think of her strolling around an upscale loft in some foreign country, baking bread and drinking wine as she looks out at a snowy landscape.”

“Possibly,” Pietro’s smile grew, eyes heating up. “Now, tell me about Steve’s.”

“Figures you’d ask about him,” Violet mumbled. “He smells like a theme park. Funnel cakes with a sugar coating, drizzled with chocolate syrup. Corndogs. The ocean with the sun shining bright, and a single Gardenia.”

“Gardenia?”

“Yeah,” Violet nodded, “I get the impression it’s a first date scenario, only it doesn’t end so well.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because if it ended well it wouldn't be so hard to catch the gardenia and the food.” Her brow furrowed in concentration, mulling over the dull memory of the man’s scent. “It’s like he’s shielding part of himself. Like the food tones and the single Gardenia flower are too personal, too revealing, which is why the ocean and sun scents are so prevalent while the rest are hidden away. Almost like he doesn’t want people to see the real him, or something.”

Pietro inclined his head slightly, “I get that feeling about him too.”

“Was that before or after you guys did the do?” Violet asked bluntly, cocking an eyebrow.

Pietro winked in response. “Both.”

“Gross.”

Pietro chuckled, reaching to grab the vodka. “We’ll get out of here. The three of us, together, as it should be.”

“Running like chickens with our heads cut off,” Violet grunted, holding out her measuring cup.

Pietro began to pour. “Peter and I are screaming bloody murder while you drag us along to the nearest exit.”

“Or hunt down a weapon so I can start fighting while you two run for the hills.”

Pietro shook his head, setting the bottle aside after filling his cup. “We wouldn’t last five minutes without you.”

“If we made it to New York without the Avengers getting to us?” Violet questioned, raising her measuring cup.

Pietro scoffed, “I’ll be generous and give us 10 minutes. 15 if we find Jessica or Matt in time.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Violet pointed to Peter, “him especially.”

“I agree,” interrupted a smooth, gentle tone.

Violet flinched, turning abruptly to face the hallway, but relaxed instantly. Pietro remained stiff, glancing repeatedly at Violet as the newcomer entered the kitchen with a bright and happy smile on her sweet face. It’s Mantis. The cuddle bug and soft spot of the Guardians. In other words, not a threat. Violet hasn’t gotten the chance to have a full-length conversation with the woman yet, so while it’s nice to see her versus the various alternatives, her sudden appearance was more than a little confusing.

“Hey Mantis,” Violet greeted her, “what brings you here?”

“I heard you were cooking again, and I wanted to grab the first bite before Drax ate it whole.” Mantis answered sweetly, smiling her cherub smile. “I also wanted to see if I could talk to you alone for a few minutes. If that’s alright?”

Violet gave her a small smile. “Well, technically I’m baking which isn’t my specialty. I just put some spiked muffins in the oven, so they’ll be a while. There’s a pie coming too, but again it’ll be awhile.”

“Would you like some help?” Her eyes got impossibly big. Forming doll shaped eyes that surprisingly looked cute instead of dead inside. “I’m great at following directions.”

“Well, I’m not, so that’ll be a nice balance.” Violet waved Mantis forward, “As for the talk that’ll have to wait for a bit, unless it’s an emergency?”

“It’s not,” Mantis skipped forward with her happy smile. “What do you mean spiked?”

“Spiked?” Pietro asked in a rude tone, glancing at Violet and giving her a look. _Is this chick for real?_

Violet flipped him off, “Spiked means I mixed the batter with Alcohol. Vodka to be specific.” She gestured to the bottle as Mantis took a seat next to Violet.

“Ooh! That’ll be fun.” Mantis clapped. “Prince Loki is planning a bunch of drunken games for all of us while Ms. Romanoff and Mr. Barnes are away. Says the three of you should have a lot of fun tonight.”

“What about Tony?” Violet grated but held back most of her disgust for the man so Mantis wouldn’t feel like it was directed at her. “Where will he be there tonight?”

“He made a loud, _very loud_ , point to say that he will not be joining the festivities. He will be going through FRIDAY’s network to ensure there are no bugs in her system. After which he will be going to bed. _By. Him. Self_.” Mantis finished proudly, nodding along towards the end of the sentence with a big smile.

“Did he tell you to tell me that?” Violet question, cocking an eyebrow sarcastically.

“Yes, he did. He actually told everyone to tell you that.” Mantis nodded happily. “I think he’s scared of you.”

“He should be,” Violet grumbled, rolling her eyes at Pietro’s teasing smile.

“Scaring Alphas is Violet’s specialty,” Pietro laughed before drinking his shot of vodka.

Mantis pouted, “I thought cooking was your specialty?”

“Only on Tuesdays,” Violet winked, and Pietro cackled.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was an hour later when Peter finally woke up. The muffins were done and cooling off in the corner, the pie was nearly finished, and Pietro was helping Violet teach Mantis how to bluff during poker. She was not good at it. At all.

“Sweetie, you can’t announce you’re about to bluff after you switch out your cards.” Violet tried to say evenly, calmly, but she couldn’t back the smile or the chirps of laughter that escaped.

“But if I don’t, I’m being dishonest.” Mantis showed her doll eyes, bottom lip sticking out slightly.

“That’s part of the game though,” Violet shrugged, “if you want to win you have to keep a straight face. Can’t let anyone see what you’re thinking and what you’re feeling.”

“Sounds lonely,” Mantis shrugged, looking at her cards.

“I guess it is,” Violet mumbled softly, turning to address Pietro. “I’ll answer your two blueberries and raise you four with a cherry.”

“Why are we betting with fruit again?” Pietro grumbled, tossing in the blueberries from his miniscule stack, pouting as he put in his last cherry.

“I’m homeless, therefore I am broke with not even two cents to my name. How about you trust fund baby?”

“I have no cash on me.”

“Exactly,” she turned back to Mantis. “What do you say? Meet our bet, or fold?”

She pursed her lips, staring at her cards with avid interest. “All in.”

Pietro’s eyes popped wide open. “Are you kidding me?”

“You wanna go all in?” Violet grinned, “I’m game.”

“I’m not!” Pietro leaned back, a look of utter betrayal on his face. “In the span of 20 minutes I went from the King of Poker to its little bitch.”

“Oh c’mon, where’s your sense of adventure?” Violet taunted, pushing in her fruit pile as Mantis pushed in hers.

“It went out the window when I got down to my last two blueberries,” he jabbed his finger at his pile. Or rather the last of his pile.

“All the more reason to go all in,” she grinned, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Yeah! Go from a female dog to the Ruler of the Game.” Mantis joined in, smiling brightly, and jumping up and down in her seat.

Pietro’s mouth dropped; Violet fought to control her laughter. “Yeah man, what she said.”

“What has my life come to?” He mumbled as he grabbed his two blueberries one by one, glaring at the women as he slowly put them into the enormous pile in the middle of the counter. “All in.”

Violet snorted at his expression, almost falling out of her chair with the wave of laughter rolling through her. “Alright everyone. Show your cards.”

In the middle of the table were five cards. In order, it went Queen of Diamonds, 8 of spades, Ace of Hearts, 3 of hearts, and Jack of clubs. Pietro revealed his two cards. A 3 of clubs and 5 of clubs. Mantis revealed her two cards. Pair of 7’s, one spade and one diamond. Violet revealed her two cards.

“Oh man!” Pietro leaned back in his seat. “A pair of aces?”

“And 8’s!” Mantis chimed in, clapping excitedly. “Congratulations!”

“The Deadman’s hand,” Violet snorted, “figures.”

Violet started gathering up her haul of berries, cherries, and the three oranges they managed to wrangle up when Peter started shuffling on the counter. Tiny grunts, an annoyed whine or two, feet starting to twitch this way and that, and suddenly his eyes were open. Violet didn’t turn to look at him, the memory of her earlier conversation with Pietro coming back to her in full force, closing off her throat. The memory of Peter willing to hand himself over to Tony, the way he shivered in pleasure at the Alpha’s hands running up his chest, punched a hole through her own. She couldn’t look at him. She didn’t want to look at him.

If she did, she was going to scream.

“Violet?” Came his soft, sleep garbled voice. “You there?”

“Hey man,” she responded offhandedly, her entire focus on the fruit haul she just won.

“What time is it?”

“Almost time for your pie to be done.” Violet stood up, gathering whatever she could in her hands, and heading towards the countertop. “Hey Mantis, you know if there’s a blender in here or anything?”

“I’ll go get it,” she chirped happily, jumping from her seat, and practically catapulting herself towards the shelving on the opposite end of the kitchen.

“Thanks,” Violet mumbled as she turned back to the countertop. Peter was sitting up now, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand.

“What time is it?” Peter muttered sleepily, dropping his hand to stare expectantly at Violet.

“You already asked me that, “she shrugged in response, following Mantis with her fruit haul. “Talk to Pietro.”

From the corner of her eye, Peter’s head whipped to stare at her in shock as she strode past him. Pietro let out a low whistle in surprise, shrugging when Peter switched his shocked and increasingly hurt gaze over to him. Mantis opened one of the cabinets and quickly pulled down what had to be the nicest blender Violet has ever seen. The type only seen on upscale cooking shows pitting the best chefs in the world against one another. She let out a low whistle as Mantis happily plugged it into the nearest outlet. “There you go. What do you plan on doing with those?”

“Well, first I’m going to rinse these off since we were all just touching them,” Violet gestured to the fruit in her hands. “Then I’ll remove the stems and pits from the cherries, set aside the oranges and replace them with the blackberries and raspberries over there,” she pointed to the abandoned box of fruit near the refrigerator a few feet to the right of the sink. “Lastly, grab some milk, hunt down some vanilla, add some of this vodka, and then blend it all together to make a fucked-up smoothie.” Violet shrugged, setting the haul next to the blender.

“Sounds delicious!” Mantis hopped in place, smiling wide. “May I help you with this?”

Violet couldn’t help but give the woman a small smile in return. “Thanks Mantis, but you don’t need to.”

“I want to though,” Mantis replied, voice softer and gentler than before. “I’d really like to help you.”

“You already helped me with that one’s pie,” Violet gestured towards Peter with her thumb, “and you humiliated the King of Poker by showing him he’s not all that.”

“Truth,” Pietro answered in a muffled tone. Violet and Mantis glanced over just in time see him taking another shot of vodka, winking to the pair over the brim of his measuring cup.

“You’ve helped enough,” Violet continued after rolling her eyes at Pietro once more. “Go take a load off. Kick his ass in another card game. Eat a muffin. I’m all good here.”

“Okay,” Mantis replied, corners of her lips turning down slightly. “But if you change your mind, I am right here to help.”

Violet’s smile grew, but her brow furrowed slightly at the small change in the woman before her. “Thanks.”

Mantis gave Violet a slow nod, corners of her mouth turning down a bit more, before she turned away and stated happily. “May we try blackjack again?” Hopping her happy hop over to Pietro’s increasingly surly form.

“Fine, but no betting this time. All our fake money/chips are about to be slaughtered by the blender and eaten by our personal guardian angel.” Pietro commented, tone starting grumbly before shifting into something more sensual.

Violet flipped him off without looking at him. “Flattery will get you nowhere. Mantis, kick his ass in blackjack.”

“On it,” Mantis replied happily.

Violet shook her head, grabbing the first cherry and starting to pull it apart.

Suddenly, arms were around her waist. A small, warm body was pressed against her back. A hot face pressed almost painfully against her spine. For a solid moment, Violet thought Mantis might be cashing in on a hug Violet forgot to give her a few days ago while she and the Guardians were all eating soup in his very kitchen. The harsh whimpers, familiar whimpers Violet would never miss, stated differently. This isn’t Mantis.

It’s Peter.

“I’m so sorry. Please don’t be mad at me.” He whimpered, crying into the back of her shirt, _his_ shirt really, while grabbing onto her almost painfully tight.

In the second she realized it was Peter, Violet felt the urge, an urge she never thought would exist when it came to him, to pull away and walk out of the room. To leave him in his tears. Leave him with his pain. Leave him with his choice. The choice to side with Tony and The Avengers. The choice that forced Violet into a situation she wanted no part of. Forced her to decide when nearly all her choices were swiftly taken away from her by Peter’s sudden, and unexpected action. An action that left Violet two impossible choices that would only end with regrets.

Refuse to tell the truth, causing Peter to become a Chosen and live out the rest of his days at Tony Stark’s side and becoming his personal sex slave in the process. Tell the truth and be the reason someone died, breaking the promise she made to her Dad so long ago. Horrible, horrible choices.

And yet he did it because it was the only way he could think of to look out for her as she looked out for him.

It doesn’t excuse him from what he did, and the effect it had on her, but Violet can’t hate him for it. She won’t hate him for it. Peter’s not like Pietro. Not like Jessica, or Matt, or Claire, or any of their group (fuck, she hopes they’re okay). He hasn’t had to deal with this type of stuff before. Sure, he’s had bullies. Been called names and shoved into lockers (to which Violet quickly put a stop to as soon as she found out). The shit with Skip when he was a kid. He’s been through his own stuff before.

This shit though?

Kidnapped and held at gun point by a psycho Alpha all while in heat, watching his sister get shot by the psycho Alpha who kidnapped them, and then watching his sister shoot the bastard while The Avengers grab him? It’s pretty fucked up. Not to mention their current captivity, the tower invasion, a pissed off Super soldier raging through the castle, Tony going into a rut and almost raping him, all this shit with Betty, and then finding out about Brea in the worst way possible? It’s super fucked up. It’s fucking insane.

No wonder he did what he did. Who in the world could make a sane and reasonable choice after dealing with all that shit in the span of 2-3 weeks? Who? If Violet had to guess, she’d put money on Aunt May. That woman is a badass. Other than her? No one. Absolutely no one.

Peter was just trying to help, same with Pietro.

Violet’s still pissed about everything, particularly at the pair of them, but not enough to let him cry on his own.

So, with a deep breath and a heavy heart, Violet turned in his bone crushing embrace and hugged her brother back. Whispering gently in his ear. “It’s okay, Peter. We’re okay.”

Peter relaxed instantly, relief coursing through his veins and leaving him sagging against her study hold. Violet almost laughed at feeling, the memory of the pair of them do those lame trust fall exercises from a couple years while hanging out on the Brooklyn at night. She almost laughed, but she didn’t. She merely held him tighter and continued whispering soft assurances to him.

Pietro nodded at the pair, unsurprised and unperturbed by their show of familial love. It’s the way they are. Violet the strong, unwavering force that protects and cares for him until the day she dies. Peter, the lovable and wonderful guy that does his best and does what he can to make things better. Violet can yell and scream at Pietro all day long, something Pietro is more than okay with and quite honestly prefers because then Violet’s letting out some of that inner rage she tends to bottle up, but Peter doesn’t get screamed at. He doesn’t get that side of her. He gets held and comforted, and then the soft talk. It’s just how they work.

Until the day Violet can’t hold back, and Peter’s the one who gets the brunt of it. Pietro frowned at the thought, watching the two pseudo siblings with dread. If that shit happened, her blowing up on Peter the way she does with Pietro or Jessica, Violet might try to eat the bullet. The shit with her yelling at Betty earlier on is different. Even though she was yelling at him, she wasn’t directing all that shit at him. She was directing it towards the situation. If she had directed it towards him, let out all the stuff she’s holding back . . .

Pietro took another shot of vodka to calm himself, not wanting to go down that rabbit hole.

Mantis, however, looked incredibly sad. So sad, she began to slump at the sight of them. Eyes downcast and worried. Pietro’s narrowed at her, and Violet’s brow furrowed even more as she glanced over at Pietro and Mantis over Peter’s shoulder.

Meanwhile, Peter held onto his sister like the lifeline that she is, taking deep breaths and hoping for the best.

(having fun with Violet and Pietro)

(Fun to come)

(What does this one have planned?)

(and a preview for a future Drunken Lullaby chapter. But which one? XD and what the Hell is happening?!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for no Bucky, but he and other fun stuff will arrive soon! I promise! Next chapter will see Violet, Pietro, Peter, and Mantis back into the main room where Loki has been waiting expectantly. Wonder what he might be up too? XD Also, what does Mantis want to talk to Violet about? Who else will we see at the party? Thank you so much for tuning in! Please leave a comment and let me know what you think!
> 
> P.S. Hopefully this all makes sense XD


	29. Drunken Lullabies: Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beginning of Drinking Night.
> 
> Listen to "Walking in the Air" by Aurora to help get a picture of what's happening here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm an idiot. There's no other way to describe it. I'm an idiot. This chapter is super short, at least by my usual standards, and gives off the feeling of, "is that it?" I promise, that's not it, I'm just an idiot. Why? Because I wrote the chapter out of order, and when I tried putting it together I realized I was missing a couple of key conversations. As a result, I posted the first part of the chapter that is purely Violet's P.O.V. because the next bit switches to someone else's. I hope you guys like it, and that it all makes sense. I will do my best to give the rest, or at least more, of this chapter before the week is out. You've all been so amazing and awesome, and I can't wait for you to read the fun stuff I have planned :D.
> 
> Please enjoy!

Chapter 28

Drunken Lullabies: Part 3

_Violet_

“Hear ye! Hear ye! Attention all who stand before me! Pay special respects, and most welcoming gestures, to our conquering hero! Freyja seemingly reborn, Violet!”

Loki gestured profoundly upon Violet’s sudden entrance into the main room. Standing tall and proud, like the God of Mischief from Myth, the Prince stared down at the inhabitants below him with an undoubtedly naughty gaze. Salacious thoughts written all over his face, pondering all the kinky possibilities that suddenly stood before him. Then Violet stepped into the room, and the lustful thoughts vanished. Only pride remains. Pride solely belonging to the young Omega he’d surprisingly grown fond of in such a short amount of time.

Filled to the brim with Guardians and Avengers alike - with some key figures thankfully missing - everyone cheered and applauded at the young Omega’s entrance. Violet being Violet merely cocked an eyebrow at the applause, glancing around to take in the full state of the room. Her gaze first landed on the odd, yet not odd, pairing of Rocket and Clint. They each smiled at her, well Clint did while Rocket grimaced. With his naturally surly disposition that was as good as a smile. They were the loudest and most raucous of the applause in the room. Standing up and clapping wildly upon sight of her.

Not far behind them were the Guardians. Quill was standing on a table with Gamora glaring at him from the floor next to him. He whooped and cheered, grinning proudly and whooping for joy. Gamora nodded to Violet, austere and poker faced as always, but the nod spoke volumes. It was one with a smirk, and a look that clearly stated “nice work kid”. Drax gave her a golf clap from the couch, which made Violet want to laugh. He wasn’t one for big celebrations until he’s had one too many beers. The fact that he bothered to celebrate at all was merely in anticipation for tonight’s events. Violet tried to not think of the possibilities, but the memories of his antics from their previous drinking sessions crossed her mind, making it nearly impossible to avoid. Rhodey stood not too far away with his arms crossed, but wore a relatively happy expression. He gave Violet a nod upon her entrance, a small smile growing the slightest bit. Very similar to Gamora in his show of approval.

Violet didn’t know how to take their praise. It admittedly left her stunned, speechless. Sending her thoughts spinning down a wormhole that never led anywhere good. Thankfully, she spotted a familiar face to keep her from falling down that rabbit hole.

In the far corner of the room stood Wanda and Jarvis. She looked healthy and elated with the way her eyes lit up. Smiling, laughing, and without a care in the world. Jarvis appeared content and soft, particularly whenever his gaze landed on Wanda. They held onto one another in an embrace that one would see out of a cheesy romantic movie. Like lovers that were destined to have their happy endings with one another.

They really are good together.

Wanda squeezed Jarvis’ hand, reached up to give him a peck on the cheek before pulling away. Jarvis put up no resistance, merely squeezing her hand back and mumbling something that resembled, “best of luck.” Best of luck with what? Or is it who? Wanda placed her gaze on Violet and walked confidently towards her. Oh shit. Violet knew what was about to happen. Wanda was going to mother her, check up on her and make sure she was okay. Violet didn’t want that. If she let Wanda come close, she’d put up a fuss and put an end to drinking night. Violet’s not okay, far from okay, and Wanda will clock that in an instant. She’ll make Violet put down the drink, take her somewhere away from the noise and vices, and talk about her problems. Just like she does, or attempts to do, when Violet wakes up from really bad nightmares.

Normally, Violet would go along with it because she didn’t want to be a shit to her friend when Wanda’s only trying to help. Tonight though, after Brea and Betty and all the truth bombs, Violet just wanted to get drunk and forget about all of it. To forget about her situation, forget about her inner turmoil, forget how pissed she was at Peter while just as equally terrified for him, forget everything.

And if Wanda gets too close, she won’t get to do any of that.

With no time to spare, Violet pushed Peter forward with a wink and a laugh to deter Wanda before heading straight for the bar with her alcoholic smoothie. Ignoring his sharp gasp as she did so. Loki’s grin widened at her action, and thus turned his attention to the shrinking Omega overwhelmed by the onslaught of gazes.

“And let’s not forget her loyal friend and sweet brother, without whom none of this would have occurred! Peter Parker and Wanda Maximoff!” Peter blushed and shied away from the sudden attention, but otherwise soaked it in as the applause continued. Wanda blanched at the attention, but smiled and waved politely in the middle of the crowd. “Or should I say Peter Stark keeping in mind recent events?”

“Leave him alone,” Violet glanced up Loki, cocking an eyebrow at him as Clint and Rocket moved in on Wanda and Peter, distracting the pair of them with a wink towards Violet. She winked back in return.

Those guys are awesome.

“As you wish,” Loki turned towards Thor who was waiting patiently behind the bar for his Omega to finish with his latest round of shenanigans. “Alpha, be a dear and fetch Violet a snack. Tonight is going to be a long and arduous one, and she will need plenty of sustenance to power through.”

“That’s what this is for,” she held up her spiked mixed berry smoothie, “got some nutrients in with my alcohol.”

“Oh that simply won’t do.” Loki scoffed, jumping down from the bar. “Though it does look appetizing, more so because I know it came from you, I’m afraid you will need far more than that. You’ve been out cold all day because of your darker personality, and you’ve barely eaten all week.” He cocked an eyebrow at Violet’s flinch. “Come now, we all have our darker parts, especially in this brood.” He nodded towards Clint and Rocket. “Parts that are far more lethal and terrifying than Brea.”

“Why are you pointing them out specifically?” Violet asked softly, glancing at the pair.

“It’s the ones who know how to integrate into a crowd rather than play one that you need to be most careful of. Wolf in Sheep’s clothing and all that.”

Violet returned her gaze to Loki, raising her eyebrows and wrinkling her forehead. “Rocket doesn’t seem like the type to blend in. He’s too direct, too in your face to disappear.”

“Correct. However, the marksman is.” He pointed his gaze towards the pair once more, and Violet followed it. “He’s an assassin, just like Ms. Romanoff and Sergeant Barnes. The incorruptible Hawkeye.”

“Incorruptible?” Violet scoffed. “If that’s true, why is he here?”

He grinned at the man, wiggling his eyebrows. Clint, without looking, flipped him off. Rocket glanced at Loki and shook his head angrily, but when his gaze landed on Violet he raised his glass. She smirked and raised her smoothie in return.

“On most occasions I would say, The love of a woman. Truthfully it’s much simpler than that.” Loki preened under the attention Clint gave him.

“What is it then?”

“Loyalty,” Thor answered, rounding about the bar counter and handing something to Violet. “His most defining trait. Along with his impressive work ethic.”

“The Hell is this?” Violet asked sharply, displaying the package Thor just handed her.

“Kvikk Lunsj,” Thor responded happily, “which translates to Quick Lunch. In America it’s more commonly referred to a, what is it, Kit Kat Bar.”

“This is a Kit Kat Bar?” Violet’s eyebrows shot up into her hair. “This is a super sized Kit Kat Bar. On steroids.”

“Yes, well it’s supposed to be bigger.” Thor explained with a smile. “It’s a common meal for backpackers and hikers venturing through the country. Pair it up with an Appelsin and you’re ready for anything.”

“Appelsin?”

“Orange,” Loki answered with a wink.

Violet grimaced, “not confusing at all.”

“It is good for you though, especially with the night my darling has planned for you and your friends.” Thor replied gently, aiming a pointed stare at his mate.

Violet apprehensively followed his stare. “How much drinking are you planning?

Loki grinned manically. “You’ll find out.”

And she did. Later.

The night started out innocently enough with a bit of drinking, socializing, and eventually dancing. Metal plates of food passed around by people wearing masks. Not the fun Halloween type of masks that vary from scary to masquerade, the type of masks that were one singular color and completely obscured the servers faces except where the eyes were cut out. Creepy. The food they brought consisted of Norwegian delicacies and Loki’s favorites. Violet wasn’t able to discern most of it, but based on the smell there were a lot of fish, sausage, and random pilings of a fruit called Cloudberry. She tried it and was quite pleased with it despite the pain it brought her from chewing. The rest she left to the other party goers.

The music was not what she was used to. Though her favorite band was Temper Trap, an indie folk type of band, she tended to lean more towards Alternative Rock or 90’s grunge. This music was not that. With the type of person Loki presented himself to be, a reborn God of Mischief who’s clearly the life of the party, the music was remarkably calm. Soft and sweet where the singers sounded like Woodland elves and sirens from the deep, viking warriors throwing themselves into war or telling stories from the battles that were waged. Alluring and enticing. Violet found herself connecting with the music in a way she didn’t originally expect. It wasn’t surprising, music was her escape from the world and soothed her in the darkest moments. The strange music was more than welcome, especially with Violet’s current state of mind. 

Then the dancing started.

Again, it wasn’t what Violet expected. She was used to the raunchy and wild style that meshed with dancing in the club. This was sophisticated, soft, and much more personal. Loki and Thor waltzed together in the middle of the main room. The table was cleared out while Violet was baking and playing poker in the Kitchen, allowing more room for the attendees. Mantis swayed to the soft beats next to them, smiling happily as Drax watched without an expression. Jarvis and Wanda, after Wanda unsuccessfully tried to talk to Violet once more, joined Loki and Thor in a waltz in the middle of the room. Each couple staring lovingly into each other’s eyes.

Violet had moved on from her alcoholic smoothie to simple vodka based cocktails by this point. She blamed her slowly increasing inebriation on the thoughts that dared to roll through her mind at the sight of the dancers. A thought she never would have considered a few weeks ago, or at least never admitted to herself.

Staring at them, she dared to wonder if she’d ever have that. Have what the couples possessed. To look into someone’s eyes with such openness and warmth, to burrow deeper into their embrace as they twirled and moved about with grace. To feel safe enough to not glance over her shoulder, or to watch over someone else, and simply bask in an intimate moment. To feel so connected to another that the rest of the world fades away, that nothing else exists except for her and her partner. Would she?

No. She doubted she would. Life always finds a way to take moments like these and keep them from her at nearly every opportunity. Life, the cruel bitch it can be, it seemed would simply not allow her to be happy. This, being part of the couples dancing and laughing, was not meant to be. Not for her. She accepted that a long time ago.

Should that really stop her though? It hasn’t in the past, especially on nights when her friends felt so down in the dumps and she fixed it by doing something outrageously dangerous while absolutely fun, so why should it now? Why should she let it defeat her? It won’t spare her any pain. In fact, it might cause her more hurt in the long run by allowing Life to bully her into submission. She hasn’t let anyone do that to her. Ever. So, why is she considering it now? What’s wrong with her?

Maybe she shouldn’t be drinking? Normally her thoughts weren’t so dark and depressing, even with alcohol involved. Maybe she should suffer through tonight sober? Better to be sober and ignore her problems versus drunk and creating new theoretical ones.

Right? Doesn’t matter though because Violet continued to drink despite the negative turn of her thoughts. She wasn’t entirely sure why, but it dimly felt to her that the more she drank, the more she seemed to drown whatever was truly bothering her. Something she couldn’t or wouldn’t admit to herself. So, she drank, and the night quickly began to pick up speed.

Particularly at the emergence of The Captain, she forced herself to think of the long-forgotten moniker, Steve Rogers. 

(So beautiful)

(There's more coming XD)

(Both a preview and an indicator of what Violet's really feeling)

(And one last preview. I wonder what he's so angry about ;) )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I will get more of this to you as soon as I can! Thank you again for reading! Leave me a comment and let me know your thoughts! :D


	30. Drunken Lullabies: Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Truth or Dare?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. This chapter is kind of fun, but it get's kind of sad. You have been warned. Also, I know I put this a lot, but I really hope this all makes sense. If it doesn't, let me know and I'll do my best to fix it. 
> 
> Before you move on, thank you all for reading! It means a lot that you're still with me and reading my story! THANK YOU!!! :D :D :D
> 
> Now, onto the shenanigans XD.
> 
> P.S. This chapter was partially inspired by "First Burn" from Hamilton. It's super awesome and you should totally check it out! :D

Chapter 29

Drunken Lullabies: Part 4

_Mantis_

Mantis was not one for social gatherings, or rather simply isn’t allowed to participate in them. Especially when said gatherings involved or were hosted by the Avengers. Drax and Rocket were naturally wary of the group, wanting to keep her away from the death and destruction they cause. Protect her from the things that really happen behind the doors The Guardians close to her, the things The Avengers force them to do on occasion. Mantis appreciated their concern, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that it caused her to live an isolated, lonely life.

That all changed when Violet Mason came crashing into their life like Haley’s Comet. Impacting and destroying their entire world in a single swoop. 

Before Violet, Mantis lived and breathed her life as part of the Guardians on the Quinjet. The very same Quinjet that was given to them by The Avengers as a gift for joining the regime. It was her entire world, everything she knew and, at the time, all she wanted to know. Then Violet angered the Winter Soldier, sent Peter and Loki running while she stayed behind to protect them, and suddenly Mantis’ entire world opened like a flower starting to bloom. Never would she or any of the Guardians, apart from Rocket and Drax, be allowed in Prince Loki’s castle. Never could they have undermined orders explicitly given by “The Iron Man” Tony Stark and “The Captain” Steve Rogers to stay away from the team and the Chosens in particular. Never could she have eaten soup, drank beer, and laughed with the likes of Hawkeye and Col. Rhodes. Never. None of that.

Until Violet.

All that aside, Mantis really liked Violet. Admired how strong she is despite her Omega Presentation. Wowed and amazed at how firmly she stands her ground opposing Alphas when fighting back against something she believed was wrong. Weakened by how gentle and soft she can be despite the steel and resolve she displays when things get hard. Relieved and elated when Violet smiles, laughs about anything and everything. She really likes her, and finds herself almost leaning on her without either of them realizing it. It was hard not to do. Despite clearly being an Omega, she had this Alpha-like effect on Mantis. Not an effect that puts her into an early heat or sends shivers down her spine, but the effect that makes Mantis want to lean on her. Depend on her. Seek support and acceptance from her.

Peter sought it too, but not as much as she did at the beginning of this week. Something changed in him. Something Mantis has seen all too much.

The boy was falling. Falling for The Iron Man. The worst part is, he doesn’t realize how far he’s fallen.

While Mantis danced to the soft music alongside Ms. Wanda and Mr. Jarvis, Prince Loki and Thor, she watched the boy talking with Mr. Barton and Rocket. Many times he glanced over to Violet at the bar where she was relaxing with a drink in hand. Mr. Pietro sat with her, talking and poking at her, making her laugh and relax even more. Other times Peter would scan the crowd in the room, then flicker his eyes towards the bedrooms. The bedrooms where Tony was hiding from Violet. He’d catch himself each time, a guilty expression dawning on his face before quickly glancing back at Violet who thankfully wasn’t paying attention to him for once. Mantis smiled at Pietro as he purposefully, yet unobtrusively, invaded her space any time her eyes wandered to where Peter could be. 

Peter’s earlier threat when dealing Dr. Betty Banner was seemingly becoming more of a promise. His eyes sought out his Alpha while trying to stay true to his family. It wouldn’t work. Mantis knows that from experience. She had a family once. Not a good family, but a family all the same. They wanted to sell her off to the highest bidder in her country, to a man Mantis knew from his disdainful expression upon appraising her the first time they met that he would be the end of her. She wanted to honor her family, to make them proud of her, even if it meant tying herself to someone who would bring her no happiness.

Then the Guardians arrived and murdered him in cold blood a few days before their wedding day. Mantis didn’t know at the time, but he had drugged her drink when she wasn’t looking. They were out at the bar with her family, one last hoorah before the big day. He had grown tired of waiting to mate with her, even though she informed him many times that she was not comfortable with the idea and requested they wait. Something Drax and the Guardians have honored to this day. He didn’t care though, and this action proved it. Drax, her steadfast Alpha, grabbed the back of the man’s head and bashed it into the bar counter while Mantis was using the restroom. Bashed it until there was nothing left to bash.

The Guardians took her in, informed her of what happened and offered to take her away from her miserable family. She loved her family, she really did, but they insisted she marry and bed that terrible man. Brushed off her worries like they meant nothing. She loved them. She missed them. She left them without a second thought.

And it was the best choice she ever made.

She didn’t envy Peter’s position. Violet was not like her family. She’s the best person Mantis has ever met. This wasn’t the same choice, and her heart ached for Peter. Ached more for Violet. With Peter already looking for his Alpha, for Tony, it was only a matter of time before he gave in. A matter of time before he took Tony’s knot, his bite, and eventually his babies. A matter of time before the Wedding Bells would ring and choirs would sing. A matter of time before he broke Violet’s heart.

With Violet, it wasn’t as clear. Wasn’t as predictable. She’s a fighter, strong and belligerent in the face of those who would subdue her. She didn’t look to the doors, the hallways, the bedrooms, anywhere. When Mantis spent time with her in the kitchen, Violet didn’t look for her Alphas, not from what Mantis could see. She didn’t look for anyone.

That concerned her.

As Mantis danced and twirled, her eyes drifted to Peter’s guilty expressions, but for the most part they stayed on Violet. Pietro kept her attention and did a rather good job of it, until a newcomer entered the room. She could see it by the abrupt change in his expression. He was smirking before, making jokes, and offering innuendos based on the way his face contorted. It was the same expression Quill used when he was trying to flirt with Gamora. Upon the newcomer’s entrance, the expression faded. A strange mixture of emotions taking place. Surprise, worry, and lust. Mantis stopped twirling and followed Pietro’s line of sight.

It was Captain Rogers.

He had changed once more. Earlier he wore sweats and a tight t-shirt. Now he was wearing blue button-down shirt and dark grey slacks with black dress shoes. The sleeves were rolled to his elbows, and his pretty blue eyes were on the bar area.

On Violet and Pietro.

Standing tall and proud, he slowly marched over to the area, not pausing when Violet’s eyes landed on him. Mantis smiled at Violet’s reaction to the intrusion. She tossed aside her drink, aiming to stand protectively in front of Pietro like the amazing person she is. Pietro, however, placed a firm hand on her shoulder, and stood with her.

“It’s okay,” Pietro stated calmly, watching The Captain’s advance with heated eyes.

Violet cocked an eyebrow, glancing between the pair, “you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Pietro nodded almost eagerly, smiling at her. “He’s not the one who hurt me. He’s good. I promise.”

Her brow furrowed; expression thoroughly unimpressed. “Is that your brain, or your dick talking?”

Pietro pursed his lips, “both?”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head disappointedly. She opened her mouth to continue but was gently interrupted by The Captain clearing his throat. They turned to face him. Violet crossed her arms, staring him down like a warrior prepared to wage battle. Pietro bit his lip, eyes straying up and down The Captain’s body before quickly returning to meet the Captain’s gaze.

He stopped just in front of the two Omegas, bowing his head slightly and placing his hands submissively behind his back. “I’m sorry for interrupting your evening.”

“An evening you weren’t invited too,” Violet cut in. Hands clenching in her grasp.

The Captain nodded. “I’m aware of that. I wouldn’t have done so if I didn’t have a good reason.”

“Which would be what exactly?” Violet shot back almost harshly. Mantis quivered at the sound, watching The Captain closely.

He sighed, lowering his head a bit more as he turned to face Pietro. “To apologize for my part in what happened to you earlier on. It was wrong, despicable, and I swear I will do my best to keep it from happening to you again.” He turned back to address Violet. “And to thank you for coming when you did. For stopping what was happening.” Violet’s eyes went wide at that. “You protected him when I failed to do so. Something I will atone for if either of you wish it of me.” He paused, taking a breath. “I don’t expect forgiveness-”

“Shut up,” Pietro shook his head with a smirk, “there’s nothing to forgive. You didn’t decide to let those bastards in, and you tried to protect me as best as you could when they decided to interrupt us. Against those two,” he pointed towards the hallway, “the only person who could have stopped them is this hellion right here,” he elbowed Violet, who quickly elbowed him back. “Which she totally did like the badass she is.”

Violet rolled her eyes again. “Suck-up.”

“I did earlier,” he responded smoothly, eyeing the Captain pointedly while Violet scrunched her nose up, corners of her mouth turning down in disgust.

“Gross dude.” She shook her head jerkily. “Gross.”

“Only to you,” Pietro stated, his smirk blooming into a smile. “And certainly not you.” He winked at the Captain.

Mantis’ eyes went wide as The Captain began to blush. Jaw dropping slightly when his calm, sturdy demeanor shook ever so slightly. He cleared his throat once more, turning to address Violet once more. “I really am sorry. Truly.”

Violet glanced at Pietro once more, sighed at Pietro’s completely enamored expression, then shrugged. “Thanks. I guess.”

“Would you like to stay?” Pietro held up his beer, “have a drink or two? I mean you’re already dressed for the occasion.” He gestured to The Captain’s outfit, and the Alpha smiled shyly.

However, he didn’t answer. Instead, he looked to Violet, who was looking at Pietro warily. “You sure about this?”

Pietro nodded confidently. “I told you, he’s not at fault here. He’s a good one, but you already know that though. Why else would you let him apologize?”

She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head to the side, pondering his statement. “Alright. He can stay, but only if he’s drinking.”

“I’m not much of a drinker-” The Captain started, but Pietro stopped him with a wave of his beer.

“Nope, you heard what the hero of the night said,” Violet flipped off Pietro at his blunt statement, “you can stay if you drink. If you don’t, you’re gone.”

“May I ask why?” The Captain smiled politely as Violet walked around the bar to grab an unopened beer for him.

“Clearly you haven’t been acquainted with Roose Bolton,” Violet glanced over at Peter’s suddenly curious gaze landing on her. “Which we will not speak about in front of other uninformed company.”

“Oh c’mon,” Peter pouted from his perch between Mr. Barton and Rocket.

“Watch more of the show and then I’ll tell you all about it.” Violet winked, smiling sarcastically at her pseudo brother as she popped the top off the beer and handed it to Pietro, who in turn gave it to Steve with a rather flirtatious look in his eyes.

“What do you say Captain? Ready to belittle your status and spend the night drinking with Hellions, delinquents, and innocent little baby cherubs?” He gestured towards Peter and Mantis. Mantis waved as The Captain’s gaze floated towards her while Peter pouted once more, crossing her arms over his chest in a childlike manner.

“If you really don’t want to,” Violet cut in with a sharp glare to Pietro, “then you don’t have too. Just don’t play sober police with the rest of us, alright?”

The Captain’s eyes narrowed as Violet opened a beer for herself. “Afraid I’ll put an end to it?”

She cocked an eyebrow, “you can try. You’ll fail just as quickly.”

“I can be persistent, when I want to be.” The Captain returned, balmy blue eyes blazing.

Her sky-blues burned just as brightly, “so can I.”

“Ooh,” Loki mumbled excitedly from behind Mantis, catching everyone’s attention in the room. “Electric.”

Violet rolled her eyes, “fuck off.”

“As you wish,” Mantis turned just in time to see Loki wink. It wasn’t directed towards Violet though. It was directed at The Captain, who nodded slightly in return.

“You shouldn’t drink so much,” The Captain continued, expression stiff and intense. “There are better, safer vices for you to use when things get tough.”

Violet cocked an eyebrow at that. Popped the top off her beer, then slowly moved around the bar, refusing to take her eyes off his. “Oh shit,” Pietro muttered, biting his lip in fear. Peter moved to hide behind Clint, peeking under the man’s elbow to watch everything go down. Mantis was frozen. Terrified and intrigued over what Violet might do next. She took a few more steps, each purposeful and succinct, until she was standing a few inches away from him. She craned her neck to look at him, he bent his head more to look at her. They didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe.

Then Violet raised her beer and chugged it down in 3 massive gulps. Her eyes never leaving his. She exhaled sharply once she was done, then dropped the glass next to their feet. It banged and clanged against the floor but didn’t break.

“What are you going to do about it?” She dared him, squaring her shoulders, and waiting expectantly. 

To Mantis’ surprise, The Captain smiled. It was small and hard to see, the type of smile reserved for the person he was addressing, but still a smile. “One day you’ll find out.”

She didn’t move, continuing to give him a pointed stare that scared the bejeezus out of Mantis. He didn’t move either, staring back without so much as a flinch. Pietro licked his lips, taking deep breaths next to the pair of them as he started to fan himself.

“As titillating as this is,” he started, earning another disgusted look from Violet, “we have a party to get back too.”

They didn’t move at first, eyes burning into each other’s with an intensity that made Mantis want to cuddle up with Drax and never let go, but when Pietro placed a calming hand on Violet’s shoulder, she moved away with a jerk. Walking back behind the bar, grabbing a glass, she made herself another cocktail. Pietro maneuvered himself in front of The Captain, clinking his beer with a sensual smile. “C’mon, let’s talk on the couch.”

The Captain went willingly, taking Pietro’s hand as the Omega lead him further into the main room where everyone watched expectantly. He turned back slightly to glance at Violet once, who paid him no mind. Within seconds, everyone returned to the night’s festivities. All except for Mantis.

She took a deep breath, calming her nerves before she thought better of it, and walked bravely towards the bar. “Hey Violet.”

Violet turned with an angry glare in her expression. Upon recognizing Mantis, it softened into an apologetic look. “Hey Mantis, sorry. What’s up?”

She smiled in returned. “Since your behind there, would you mind making me a drink?”

“Sure thing,” Violet set aside her own, giving Mantis her full attention. “What’ll it be?”

“Vodka Cranberry?” Mantis answered in an unsure tone. “I think that’s the one Drax had me try once. It was tasty.”

Violet smirked, grabbing a glass from under the counter. “It’s not bad. I’m not a big fan of cranberry juice though.” Then she grabbed tongs. “On the rocks or straight?”

Mantis’ eyes went wide. “Huh?”

Violet chuckled. “Ice or no ice?”

“Oh!” Mantis smiled, “ice please.”

“Cool,” Violet winked, and got to work.

Mantis fidgeted in her spot, looking over her shoulder and watching Loki and Thor stopped dancing. Making their way over to Pietro and Steve who were now sitting on the couch. They were still holding hands, knees touching. Mantis bit her lip to keep from grinning at the sight. Wanda and Jarvis continued to dance while subtly moving towards the side of the room where their drinks were waiting for them at the pool table.

Loki’s plans were about to begin, which left Mantis little time to act.

“Violet?” Mantis started in a shy tone. “Since we didn’t get a moment earlier, is okay if I talk to you about something?”

Violet looked up from Mantis’ drink, brow crinkling in concern. “Yeah, of course. What do you wanna talk about?”

She passed Mantis her drink, to which Mantis took gratefully. She gulped in a large amount of air. Straightening her spine. No time to back out. “I really like having you here.”

Violet’s expression flinched, not expecting that statement. “Oh-oh okay. I-I’m . . . glad you do?” She stumbled over the compliment, clearly unsure of how to respond.

Mantis gripped her drink tightly. “What I mean to say . . . it’s better around here. With _you_ around, I mean. It’s not as lonely. The Avengers are better, nicer, more accepting. Rocket seems happier. He doesn’t really yell at Quill anymore, well except when Quill breaks his stuff. So, less often than normal.” Mantis chuckled, forcing herself to continue despite the increasing confusion in Violet’s face. “Drax lets me hold him more often. Gamora hasn’t made plans to kill her sister since you arrived. Dr. Strange was nice to us too. Everything’s better and . . . well . . . it’s all because of you.”

Violet grunted. Opening and closing her mouth, attempting to find the right words. Eventually she shrugged. “I’m sure that’s more to do with Peter than me. He’s always known how to turn a room, get them fawning over him without lifting a finger. I’m normally the one who gets everyone snarling and at each other’s throats.”

“Maybe in other places,” Mantis relented, reminding herself to breathe. “Not here though. Not with us.”

“Tell that to them.” Violet pointed to the room behind Mantis. “If that’s not an enamored bunch of weirdos, then I’m a killer clown about to board my rocket ship to space.”

“Is that a movie?” Mantis cocked her head, “you seem to make a lot of movie references.”

Violet laughed, returning her attention back to finishing her cocktail. “Let’s not forget tv and book references too. I can’t seem to avoid them no matter what I do. Must be one of those less harmful vices Cap over there was talking about.” She nodded towards the couch where he was sitting with Pietro.

“Maybe,” Mantis agreed, watching Violet’s hands as she poured the vodka in her drink. “What drink are you having?

“With Vodka I normally lean towards a Citrus Mint, but tonight I’m doing a Ginger Lemonade on the rocks.” Violet replied in a clear tone as she poured in her last ingredient.

“How do you make those?” Mantis inquired in a sweet tone; earlier concerns momentarily forgotten. “And why aren’t you doing the first one?”

“Well,” Violet gestured to the finished drink in between them. “It’s pretty simple. This one you start by filling the glass to the halfway point with lemonade, add in one ounce of vodka, then top it with some ginger beer.” She turned to put the vodka away. “I’m not doing the former drink because that one,” she pointed to Peter, “hates mint. Absolutely hates it. I drink that and I won’t be able to get within five feet of him without him shivering and gnashing his teeth in disgust. It’s so bad, he might as well be allergic of the stuff.”

Mantis pouted. “So, you won’t have your preferred drink because _he_ hates it?”

Violet shrugged, “not like that exactly, but pretty much. It’s not a big deal though. Peter’s more important than alcohol.”

“Doesn’t feel right,” Mantis responded sadly.

“What do you mean?” Violet grabbed her glass, bringing it to her lips.

Mantis followed suit. “Would he do the same for you? If he liked something that made you react like that. Would he sacrifice it for you?”

Violet shrugged. “Yeah, I think so.”

Mantis lowered her glass, staring at Violet imploringly. “Do you know, though?”

Violet’s brow furrowed, and she opened her mouth to answer, but was then interrupted by Loki clapping loudly behind them.

“Come along everyone! Time to indulge in a few childish classics for tonight’s festivities!” He declared proudly, smiling wickedly as everyone made their way towards the inside of the room.

“C’mon,” Violet reached over to pat Mantis’ shoulder as she walked back around the bar. “We’ll talk more later.”

Suddenly, Mantis felt incredibly brave. So brave, she caught Violet’s hand and held it to her shoulder. She stood up, staring directly into Violet’s surprised eyes. “I know you don’t want to stay here. I know you’re scared. For Peter, for Pietro, for Wanda, and for yourself. I know all the thoughts going through your head because they went through mine too when the Guardians took me in. What are they going to do to me? How long is forever? Where are we even going? Will they keep their word, or will they hurt me like my family warned me? Who am I going to be tomorrow? All of it went through my head. All those worries. All the terrible stories of those they worked with. All of it.” She took a breath, calming herself. “And it was all for nothing.”

“What do you mean, _for nothing_?” Violet cut in quietly. Loki sounded off again, trying to grasp the two Omegas attentions. Neither of them looked towards him.

“I’ve been with the Guardians for years, and I’m still my own woman. They’ve never touch me, never mated me, never once hurt me. They made a promise and have kept their word this whole time.” She smiled weakly, relieved, and elated Violet was listening. Taking her seriously. No one else really did that. “I don’t know Sgt. Barnes or Ms. Romanoff very well. I doubt most people here really do. One thing I do know, above everything else, is that among us, Guardians and Avengers alike, when we make a promise, we keep it. No matter what.” She took a deep breath, squeezing Violet’s hand in assurance. “And the ones who make sure of that the most are Sgt. Barnes and Ms. Romanoff. And The Captain of course.”

Mantis paused, leaning in close. “When they make a promise, they keep it. If they promised you that you’ll be safe, that they won’t cross any lines without your consent or anything like that, then count that as truth. They don’t break their promises. Their word is their bond, just like the rest of us.”

“And what if you’re wrong?” Violet asked softly, a strange intensity brewing in her whisper.

Mantis smile sadly. “If I were wrong, I would have been mated and hurt repeatedly the moment I went with the Guardians. I’d more than likely be dead by now too.” Violet leaned back slightly, unsure of what to say once more. Mantis squeezed her hand once more. “I really hope you stay here. Stay with us. Peter’s nice and all, and maybe he _can_ turn a room into enamored idiots.” They both slightly chuckled at that. “He’s not the one who united us though. You are. Rocket never would have let me, Gamora, and Quill come in this castle if it weren’t for you. Something that probably never would have happened if you hadn’t made it safe for us.”

“And how did I do that exactly?” Violet inquired, eyes wide and curious.

Mantis smiled, “you’ll have to ask him that.”

“Ladies!” Loki shouted, finally grasping their attention by marching over to the pair of them. “Enough of the private bonding session. We’re about to play a game and we need as many players as we can get.”

“Apologies, Prince Loki.” Mantis curtsied respectfully while Violet cocked an eyebrow and took a sip of her cocktail.

“So sweet,” Loki winked before turning his attention to Violet. “Ready for a bit of fun?”

“Depends on your idea of fun,” Violet returned smoothly.

Loki grinned, “don’t worry. I’ve toned it down to avoid scaring your pseudo brother over there.”

“Appreciate it,” Violet responded curtly, which made Loki’s grin widen.

“Excellent,” Loki clapped his hands excitedly, “let’s get started.”

_Pietro_

When Loki mentioned party games, Pietro was expecting foreign drinking games that made no sense to him whatsoever and would ultimately lead to him drinking shot after shot until he passed out. Fuck, he expected something a bit more . . .complicated at least. Not . . . not . . . this.

Then again, he’s not really complaining.

Everyone sat in a lopsided circle. There were two couches facing each other, along with a smaller couch off the side in front of the fireplace. On one couch was Mantis, Violet, and then Clint. The next couch (in front of the fireplace) was Quill, Peter, and then Gamora. The couch facing Violet was Drax, Steve, and then Pietro. There were two chairs on the other side of the circle with their backs facing the bar. They were reserved for Loki and Thor. Wanda and Jarvis remained at their seats next to the pool table well outside of the circle.

Peter seemed a bit hesitant to sit away from Violet, but Quill immediately put him at ease by talking about various 80’s tunes and how they’re criminally underrated. Violet kept an eye on him, but otherwise drank away. Pietro was getting a little worried, almost as much as Wanda, but there was no more time for that because Loki started speaking in a loud, proclaiming tone of voice.

“Truth or Dare,” Loki had proudly proclaimed after he placed the last bottle of pure liquor on the table. A table that was dark brown, small, and spun at anyone’s behest. On the table was a bottle of spiced rum, lime vodka, Kraken, honey whiskey, pineapple tequila, bourbon, Everclear, Brandy, Vermouth, Gin, and Carlsberg-Ringnes beer interspersed between the liquors. There were also different colored empty glasses interspersed between the liquors and beers as well. Pietro surmised they were for water. Or at least he hoped it was for that. Their reason for being there was based on the rules Loki laid out before they started the game.

“Most of you already know the general rules of Truth or Dare. When someone is chosen, they have the option between the two. However, they also have the option to pass. Before and after the truth or dare has been announced if they deem it too hard for them to handle. Should they pass, they must turn the table of bad choices,” he gestured to the liquor and beer on the spinning table, “and whichever one lands in front of them, they must drink from. If it’s liquor, you must drink 1 shot from each time you passed. So, if it’s your first time passing, only one shot. If it’s your fifth passing, five shots. Getting the picture?” Everyone nodded astutely. “Excellent. Now, if you land on the beer, you must drink it in one go, no matter how many times you’ve passed. Same with the empty glass. The glass will be filled with water so that should be fairly simple for those who are not equipped to handle heavy loads of drinking.”

He paused to eye Peter in particular, and Pietro didn’t bother to hide his laugh at Peter’s surprised expression. He did dodge Violet’s throw at that though. Narrowly missing a bottle cap to the face. Loki continued as if nothing happened. “Also, you’ll notice that while most of the regular glasses are red, there are two shot glasses that are blue, and two shot glasses that are green. If a blue glass lands in front of you, then you don’t have to drink. Instead you choose someone else from the crowd to take a shot for you, one which has a mystery liquid of your own choosing. If it lands on green, then the person who called on you to choose between truth or dare gets to choose a mystery liquid for you and you must then take the shot . . . blindfolded.” He smiled evily at that, earning some hoots and hollers.

“Now, you can opt out of the game at any point. If you feel sick you may pause and take a break. Also, in honor of Violet, all newcomers here get a free pass that will not count against them and will not entail them to spin the wheel of bad choices. Understood?” Everyone nodded once more. Both Peter and Violet raised their glasses to him simultaneously to Loki, who placed his hands over his heart. “Why thank you darlings. Now! Let’s begin. Who shall start?”

Everyone pointed at Violet, who straightened up and stared at everyone like they were crazy. Loki just laughed. “It’s settled! Violet. Please choose the first participant.”

Violet rolled her eyes, exhaling sharply. “Alright . . . Drax” she pointed to the muscle-bound man sitting on the opposite couch ahead of her. He straightened up happily, eager, and ready. “Truth or Dare?”

“Dare. I’m always ready for battle.”

She took a drink from her cocktail. “I dare you to cuddle with Mantis until she says ‘ _Enough_ ’.”

He nodded seriously, then opened his arms to woman sitting next to Violet. Mantis smiled happily, whispering something that sounded like ‘ _Thank you_ ’ before practically bouncing and jumping into Drax’s lap. Violet winked at her once she was situated.

“Good start,” Loki approved, “Drax. Your turn.”

The Alpha hummed, scanning the crowd. “Thor, the pirate angel baby.”

Thor grinned at that. “Yes sir?”

“Truth or Dare?”

Thor pursed his lips. “Dare.”

“I dare you to strip off your clothes until you’re in your underwear while dancing to the song of Quill’s choice.” He nodded to Quill, who whooped for joy.

Thor sighed, raising his hands in defeat as he stood up. “What song shall it be?”

“Mr. Blue Sky,” Quill laughed, “FRIDAY, can you play that?”

“Certainly,” FRIDAY responded from the stereo situated precariously on the pool table behind the group.

Suddenly the music started, and with a roll of his eyes, Thor began to shake his hips with the offbeats of the song. Slowly unbuttoning his shirt, eyeing each person individually as he his hips went from swaying to thrusting. Massively, and pointedly thrusting. Pietro began to blush while humming in encouragement. _Please Thor. Please keep going_. Then his thoughts went dirty and started wondering what he would do if Steve were the one doing this. _Probably blow him right then and there, offhandedly preparing apologies for Violet and Peter for scarring them for life_.

Sure enough, true to the dare’s command, Thor stripped down to his underwear. A pair of wonderfully tight yet still fitting black underwear that definitely came special made for his sinful body. Violet was right, Pietro does like Thor. Or at least he liked his body. Not as much as Steve’s though.

Sadly, it all came to an end in minutes. Thor stood proudly, basking in the cheers from the group. Eyeing Loki in particular, who gave him a very heated look. “Thank you Drax,” Loki stated smoothly, “thank you very much.”

“My turn, I gather?” Thor asked pointedly, returning Loki’s heated look.

“Yes, Alpha. Yes indeed.”

Thor chuckled, reaching out to caress Loki’s cheek before turning back to the crowd. “Violet. Truth or Dare?”

She cocked an eyebrow, pursing her lips. “Truth, but only to break the trend.”

Thor smiled. “Why choose Violet Mason to be your name? Not the situation that led to you changing it, but the reason for the name itself?”

Violet shrugged, sipping her cocktail. “I chose Violet because I was assaulted by an Alpha who compared me to Violet Beauregard from Willy Wonka. I smell like mixed berries, and that character turned into a blueberry. Hence the connection. I chose Mason because it happened on Mason square in front of Peter’s college.” Violet shrugged. “I chose those names because it was my way of accepting what happened and using it to help me move on. You know, ‘ _wear it like armor and it can never be used to hurt you_ ’.”

Pietro’s chest tightened, concern wrinkling his forehead. He leaned forward, intending to ask her about it, but Steve put a calming hand on his shoulder. “Later,” he whispered in Pietro’s ear, and Pietro nodded in agreement. _Yes_ , he thought, _later._

Peter, however, didn’t have someone to stop him. “You never told me that.” He mumbled in a pathetically sad tone.

Violet shrugged once more. “You never asked.”

At Peter’s pained expression, and Violet’s indifference, Loki continued. “Violet, it is now your turn once more! Go ahead!”

“Hopefully, this doesn’t turn into a thing where everyone keeps coming back to me because I’d rather finish this before I potentially start in on any of that.” She gestured to the table with a wary expression. Loki laughed. “Alright, let’s go with . . . Steve.” She used her glass to carefully point towards him. “Truth or Dare?”

“Dare,” he stated smoothly. Pietro smiled at him.

“I dare you to call Darcy, your former Chosen, and apologize to her for being a humongous dick who doesn’t deserve her.” Violet commanded flatly, taking another drink as she did.

Peter gasped, the room went silent and looked at Steve expectantly. Pietro included. “Bad breakup?” He whispered to Steve.

“It’s one way to put it,” Steve responded curtly, exhaling sharply once more as he stared Violet down. He didn’t move, neither did she. _Wow, they’re taking these stare downs very seriously_. Violet wasn’t blinking. Neither was Steve. _Fucking hell_. A zing went through Pietro’s pants. Steve finally moved. He reached his hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He dialed a number, one Pietro didn’t quite catch, then put it on speaker. It rang. And rang. And rang. And then . . .

“ _Whatsup bitches! Darce here! Can’t come to the phone right now because life is way too important to interrupt for a phone call. Loves you! Except mom, go fuck yourself. Toodles! Leave a message if you’re not mom! That whore!”_ The answering machine screamed to the room. Pietro’s jaw dropped, Peter’s eyes bugged, Mantis cocked her head. Everyone else stared in confusion, except for Steve and Violet. Steve looked thoroughly exasperated. Violet started laughing. “I haven’t heard that in forever.”

Steve took a breath. The beep sounded on the phone. “Darcy, it’s Steve. I just want to say I’m a humongous dick and you deserve better than me. I hope you’re doing good and staying safe. Violet says hi and wants to check on you, make sure you’re alive and okay. I . . . I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not handling . . . all of . . . all of this better. I truly, truly hope you’re happy where you’re at. And I hope you find an Alpha who is more than deserving of you and all that you have to offer. Thank you. Goodbye.” Then he hung up, staring Violet down once more. “My turn.”

Violet raised her hands in defeat. “Go ahead.”

“Violet, truth or dare?”

She rolled her eyes. “Truth, again only to differ from the trend.”

“Who was the Alpha that assaulted you, the one that compared you to Violet Beauregard?”

She sighed, wiping her face. “Trish something. I don’t remember her last name. you needn’t worry though, Jessica already handled her like a boss. Never heard from her again.”

Steve nodded in approval, but Pietro could feel how tense the Alpha became. When Violet wasn’t looking, he reached up to soothe the muscles in Steve’s neck without thinking about it. He wasn’t thinking about a lot of things tonight. He smiled when the Alpha relaxed beneath his touch.

“Alright Violet,” Loki proclaimed loudly, “your turn once again.”

She downed the rest of her drink placing the now empty glass on the ground next to her feet. “Alright, Rocket. Truth or Dare.”

“Dare,” he stated proudly.

“I dare you to drink two shots of Everclear while I take two shots of that nasty ass tequila.”

He grinned. “Happily.”

And so, they drank, and the night wore on playing the rather fun game of drunken truth or dare. Violet clearly was called on the most, and not once did that woman pass. She answered each truth, which thankfully toned down after the first two, and completed each dare. Truths like what’s your favorite ice cream (mint chocolate chip with bits of cookie dough)? What country would you most like to visit that you haven’t been before (a tie between Egypt and New Zealand)? If you can live in a fictional world, which would it be (Middle Earth from Lord of the Rings)? The dares she received were relatively tame in comparison to what the others received. She had to do a handstand for one minute. Jump and grab onto the chandelier. Switch shirts with an Alpha (she chose Rocket much to Steve’s subtle annoyance) within 30 seconds or drink five shots of Vermouth to which she managed with 8 seconds to spare. They both still took a shot of Vermouth, spitting and gagging at the taste in celebration.

As the night wore on, the dares got raunchier and more colorful for the majority. Pietro’s favorite was when Steve dared Loki to use one of his scarves like a leash and act like a dog until someone called on him again. The group, and Loki, were having a great time with it until Loki loudly and obnoxiously started humping Thor’s leg. Violet put an end to that real quick. Loki merely smiled, winking flirtatiously at the group before sitting back down like the royal Prince he is. Pietro himself was dared to sit in an Alpha’s lap, which had him practically jumping onto Steve’s. The alpha caught him with a smile, and Violet obnoxiously rolled her eyes.

Everyone spun the table of bad choices at least once. Thor did the most because most of the room kept daring him to take off his underwear and throw it out the window. Violet was the only one who kept daring him to put his clothes back on. Something he really appreciated. Steve was the second most because most of the group kept daring him and Drax to have a bench pressing contest. Violet was third, but that was only because she wanted to drink. After had gone at least twice, the only liquor that still had a fair amount left was miraculously the spiced rum. Violet licked her lips at that, which made Pietro laugh in an effort to hide his moan. He was really getting horny tonight. Easy to be when sitting next to Captain Steve Rogers with fresh memories of his dick cumming down Pietro’s throat.

Peter was called on the least, and only did two dares out of the bunch. Both of which were extremely tame. One was stand up and sing the chorus of his favorite song (Blitzkrieg Bop). The other was bend backwards and crabwalk towards the bar. He seemed relieved to have the attention mostly off him, but that was about to change as Clint called on him.

The beta adjusted the feather boa around his neck, fidgeting with the sequined dress Loki dared him to put on. Clearing his throat and pursing his lips, he scanned the crowd until his mischievous eyes landed on the trembling Omega. He smiled and lifted his glass. “Peter. Truth or Dare.”

Peter, polishing off his third beer for the night, cough into his hand before slurring his answer. “Dare.”

The room erupted into _oohs_ and _ahs_. Violet cocked an eyebrow at Clint, but the beta smiled in assurance. “This is kind of a two part Dare, can I get away with that?”

“Yes,” Loki answered before anyone could object.

“Alright,” Clint wiggled his eyebrows. “Peter, I dare you to grab a partner you trust to have your back.”

“Violet,” he pointed haphazardly to her, almost swinging his beer into Quill’s face. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

Quill was too busy laughing to respond. Thankfully, Gamora responded for him. “It’s fine. No one got hurt.”

“Alright Violet,” Clint clapped happily, “stand up with Peter and move into the middle of the room.”

With a roll of her eyes, she set her drink aside and quickly moved forward to grab Peter’s unintentionally flailing arms and get him to his feet. He was trashed. So was Violet, but she had a much better handle on it thanks to her higher tolerance from the last few years dealing with Darcy’s drunken shenanigans. Even if they were only once or twice a year. Gingerly they made their way to the middle of the room. Rocket moved the table out of the way and put a chair in its place. He did the same on Peter’s side just as they two made it to their spots. Immediately they sat down. Violet now looked extremely worried, biting her lip as Peter reached out to grab the rest of her drink.

“You sure you want that Peter?” She asked in a wary tone, brow wrinkled in concern.

He nodded happily, swaying in his spot as he did. “Definitely.”

“Okay,” Clint got their attention back onto them. “Now Peter, pay attention to what I’m saying because it’s very important.”

“Got it, listening with all ears,” he smiled, slapping his ears and sending some alcohol flying. Everyone held back some snickers while Violet tried to grab the drink before he dumped it all over himself.

“Peter,” Clint started, his smile fading just a bit. “I dare you to tell Violet what you really think of Tony.”

Silence. Pietro’s eyes popped open. Mantis gasped on Drax’s lap. Wanda, who had mostly stayed out of the game, placed her hand over her heart. Violet glared at Clint. “Dude, really?”

Clint shrugged, raising his hands in a nonthreatening manner. “He doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to.”

Violet gestured to Peter’s swaying form, “like he’s really in any position-”

“I like him,” Peter muttered, hiccupping as he tried to sit up properly. “He makes me feel really good.”

Pietro’s jaw dropped. All eyes went to Violet, gauging her reaction.

“Wait-what?” Violet mumbled, leaning back slightly to take in the state of Peter.

He continued without pause. “He’s so smart. So handsome. He makes me feel like a champion, like I’m standing on the tallest Mountain in the whole wide world. Looking down at everyone below me while his arms wrap around me, whispering in my ear, and then I realize we’re not just people. We’re Gods.” Peter laughed. “It’s kind of scary, all that powerful he wants to give me, but it feels kind of good too. Makes me feel invincible.” His smile went dopey, eyes finally focusing on Violet. “He’s got nothing on you though. No makes me feel better than you.”

“But not in the way you want though,” Violet whispered, eyes narrowing. Chest rising and falling at a surprisingly calm pace.

Peter grimaced, mulling over her statement before nodding. “Yeah. He makes me feel complete. Like missing puzzles finally put in the right place. What with our science talks, the way he makes me feel . . . here,” he gestured to his groin area, causing Violet to flinch violently. “No one beats you here,” he put a hand over his heart, “but the other places feel . . . right with him. You know? It just feels right. It feels better.” He paused, smiling growing slightly. “I think I might love him someday.”

Violet was frozen. Fuck, everyone apart form Peter were frozen. Unmoving and borderline lifeless as Peter kept droning on and on about the same thing over and over again. About how Tony makes him feel invincible, makes him feel hot and sweaty when he knows he shouldn’t. About how gratifying it was to talk science without dumbing it down, and instead extrapolating on it. More and more dread weighed on the entire room, all expect for Peter who continued without a thought in his head, as they waited for what Violet would do.

Then she raised a hand, sending a tremor through the group, and Peter finally stopped. Watching her curiously. She cleared her throat and moved her jaw side to side in an attempt to loosen it.

“Do you know one of the worst parts helping out at the Omega house was?” Violet asked gently, elbows leaning on her knees, hands clasped together in between her legs.

Peter shook his head, chocolate eyes going big as he moved in close. Giving her his undivided attention despite his inebriated state. “What was it?”

“The dawn of realization.” Violet stated bluntly. “The look that comes across a person’s face just as they are starting to heal, the look that says everything. The look that says, “this happened to me,” and they realize they have no idea what to do about it.” Her jaw clenched suddenly, flinching at the memory. “Then the fear sets in, fear of what will come next and what could they possibly do to fix it. Or instead of fixing it, just forgetting about it. Pushing the thoughts away. To do something, anything, to get back to the way things are before. Only there isn’t going back. There’s no going back because the person they used to be isn’t the same person they are now. They’ve changed, whether for better or worse doesn’t matter because that’s not who they want to be. They want to be who they were before this whole mess started, before everything went to shit, before this very moment where they realize it’s too late to go back. It’s too late to be who they were. It’s too late. Period.” She paused, taking a deep breath, “and there’s nothing they can do about it.”

She shifted forward slightly, staring imploringly at Peter. “There was a girl I used to talk to in there. You might remember her; she went to that fancy techno school with you. Graduated a few years ahead of you. Blonde hair. Used to draw spiders on post it notes and leave them in your locker?”

“Gwen? Gwen Stacy?” Peter straightened up, shocked at the familiar name.

Violet nodded, “yeah. Gwen Stacy. Smartest girl in her class and Valedictorian of her year. Right?”

“Yeah, I remember her.” Peter’s breath picked speed. “She used to date Harry. Harry Osborn.”

“You’re right,” Violet confirmed, “they got married the day after Graduation. Went on a Honeymoon in the Bahamas, tried having kids, the whole shebang. The perfect cookie cutter life.” Her gaze grew dark, jaw clenching once more. “Her first visit to the Omega House was a few weeks after word officially got out about us. That would be around . . . 7 months into their marriage. She had the money, the means to go to the hospital, but the bastard told her she wasn’t allowed to. Afraid it would cause a scandal or some shit.” Her nostrils flared, vein throbbing in her neck. “He broke her arm in three different places, cracked a few of her ribs, and busted up her face. With Claire’s help we were able to determine the severity of the breaks and put her in a cast, got her on the mend, and called Sam over to take her statement. Can you guess what happened then?”

“She didn’t give it?” Peter slurred, body starting to sway once more before Violet reached out to catch him, steady him. Once sitting right, her hands retreated as she continued.

“No, she gave one.” She sniffed, shaking her head in small, jerky movements. “She told Sam she was injured due to a robbery gone wrong. Gave a description of the assailant and everything. Repeated the same story her husband fed her. Word for word. She was reading from her cell phone at the time, reading messages he sent her. Sam clocked it before she finished reading her statement. After that she wouldn’t say a word to him. Only spoke to Wanda when she needed something.” She straightened up slightly, but otherwise didn’t move. “Second time she came a few months later it was more of the same, except for the injuries. This time her other wrist was fractured, and her shoulder was dislocated.”

She raised her hands, wiping at her face before continuing. “The third time she came in was the worst. Bruised trachea, fractured tibia, and femur, and almost lost a couple of her fingers. Claire was working on her all night, Wanda and I helped where we could. Twice we almost took her to the hospital. Twice we were almost forced to go against her wishes, her commands really, to take her to receive better medical care despite the press and publicity of such an event. Thankfully, Claire pulled miracle after miracle to save her life. Got her stable. On the mend.”

Violet paused for a moment, taking a few breaths before continuing. “When she woke up the next morning, I went in there to talk to her. Not pressuring her or anything. Just talking. Asking about her life, her job, all that small talk shit I fucking hate. Doesn’t matter though because it helped her open up. Sort of. She didn’t go into detail about what really happened, mostly gave vague comments and shit about how bad it was at home. Alluding to things he’d make her do and what he’s done to her without actually admitting anything. It was quite impressive really. Under different circumstances she’d be one hell of a spy.”

She shook her head slightly, “eventually I got to the point where I asked her, _why would you go back to someone who hurt you this badly?_ Wanna guess what she said?”

Peter shook his head, eyes widening to the point they resembled Mantis’ doll like gaze.

Violet sniffed, rubbing at her nose with the back of her hand. _“Mom’s left. Dad’s dead. Friends have moved on. Nowhere else to go. Harry’s all I have. Harry’s always been there. Always will be. My whole world since the moment I met him. No place else I’d rather be. No person I’d rather be with. If that world kills me, I’ll die happy.”_ Then she looked at me, gave me this stare that said more to me than all the stuff she’d been saying for our entire conversation. It was so intense. So angry and fueled with rage. She looked at me, and said, _don’t you dare try to save me from this. There’s no life without him, not anymore. He’s all I have, all I want, and I will kill anyone who gets in the way of that_.”

For a long moment, no one spoke. Violet stopped talking, eyes moving to gaze into flames flickering away in the fireplace. Peter stared at her with tears in his eyes.

“Do you think I’m going to end up like that? Is that why you’ve hated Tony from the start?”

“I don’t hate Tony,” Violet stated bluntly. “If I did hate anyone, he’d be right up there, but no I don’t hate him. I know it's a common opinion you guys have of me. One I even have of myself. The opinion that I _hate_ Alphas. Really, I don’t. If that were true, I wouldn’t be in this room right now. Wouldn’t have drank with Thor, had a civil conversation with Steve the other day, wouldn’t have hung out with Rocket and Drax as much as I have. Fuck I wouldn’t allow myself to be impressed and borderline grateful to Jarvis for how well he’s treated Wanda. Something she’s more than deserving of.” Pietro could see Wanda smile at that, holding onto Jarvis’ hand at Violet’s compliment. “I sure as shit wouldn’t have allowed The Avengers to take me captive in the first place. If I truly hated them, or Alphas in general, I would have died before allowing that to happen. I straight up would have killed myself in some blind and selfish act of defiance or some bullshit because that’s what hate is. It’s blind. Blind rage consuming people like cancer, forcing them to bear the pain and agony of their best parts practically rotting away until that hate consumes them completely, then finally killing them.”

She sighed, turning her worried gaze back to Peter. “To answer your question, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think it was a possibility. However, I also don’t think it’s inevitable. I know you’re strong enough, stronger even, to bear Tony and put him in his place. To stand your ground when he wants to push. I know you can.” She shuffled slightly, starry eyes burning bright as her jaw flinched. “What scares me is all the stuff you might have to go through before you decide to push back and stand your ground.”

“You mean,” Peter spoke softly, struggling to get the right words out. “Things he could do to me, things like Skip did?”

Violet nodded sharply, jaw flinching again. The pair ignored the confused glances around the room. The soft murmurs of the name. Pietro wasn’t entirely sure what that was about either. Someday, especially after this, he felt he was going to find out. “I don’t want you to go through that shit again. Don’t want you to feel that gross feeling again. Especially from someone you’re . . . interested in. Someone you want to-to move further . . . with.” Violet forced out, taking a deep breath afterwards.

“It won’t be like that this time,” Peter shifted closer, sitting on the edge of his seat. “Tony’s not Skip. He cares, he pulls back. He stops when I tell him too. He does. I promise.”

“Did he stop earlier?” Violet shot back as gently as she could, brow furrowing slightly.

“I-” Peter’s lip trembled, “I didn’t ask him too.”

Pietro’s chest was tightened to the point he was afraid it would shatter were he to take a breath. He took Steve’s hand, squeezing it painfully tight. Steve returned the pressure, shifting closer to give Pietro his steady, comforting warmth. She doesn’t deserve this. All that pain, all the sacrifices, all the betrayals. Why is Peter doing this? Why would he do this to her? Did Tony really mean that much to him? Or is just a selfish prick? Pietro glanced at Steve’s hand tangled within his own. _Suppose it takes one to know one._

Violet, though she did a good job of hiding it, was hurting. Hurting so fucking badly it was a testament to her will power, to her inner resolve that she wasn’t screaming bloody murder right now. The expression on her face was two steps away from looking like she was burning alive. In a way, she probably was. How Peter couldn’t see that, Pietro would never know. All the same, she took a deep breath, and steadied herself. 

“If you’re going to go through with this, get to know Tony and all that comes with it, remember this.” Violet’s eyes grew wildly intense. “Know that he isn’t your whole life, just a small part of it. Know that there are people you can run too who will protect you. Know that there is more to this world than what he thinks is best for you. Know this. Please, over everything, know this.” She grabbed his hands, squeezing tightly. “Know that your choice matters, and if he tries to take it away from you, shock him in the dick.” She smirked playfully. “Shock him in the dick until it burns right off.”

Peter laughed at the end, tears spilling onto his cheeks as he squeezed back just as tightly. “I promise.”

She tightened the slightest bit, panic flashing through her eyes for the briefest of moments, before she slipped her hands away, and placed them back in her lap. “Then what are you waiting for? Go help the head honcho fix FRIDAY’s bug problem. That is if he’s still doing it. And leave your drink behind. Alcohol and technology don’t always mix. Or so I’ve heard anyway.” She smirked, winking at her brother with the brazen affection Pietro loves her for.

He grinned, wiping his tears away and pulling her into his arms. “I love you, Violet.”

“Love you too, Peter.” She kissed his shoulder and rubbed his back before pulling away with a smile. “Don’t cross any lines you’re not comfortable with. You hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” he nodded happily.

He stood to his feet, waving excitedly to the last of the partiers in the room, before straightening up proudly, turning on his heel, and walking towards the hallway that led to the bedrooms. He glanced at Violet 3 times before he disappeared in the darkness. Each time staring at her like she was “The Heart of the Ocean”, the blue jewel from the Titanic movie. She smiled back at him each time, watching him intently until he finally disappeared.

Once he was gone, her face fell, and all that was left was anger. Anger and dread. She stood up from the couch, grabbed the drink he left behind, and tossed the liquid into the fire. The flames rose as a result, causing Mantis to flinch next to Drax, but other than that no one moved. No one made a sound. All they did was watch Violet, without a doubt the best person they’ll ever know.

Rocket and Clint glanced at each other from across the room, nodding in agreement. Thor and Loki held onto one another, sharing glances between Rocket and the rest of the Guardians. Rhodey raised his glass, already aware of what’s going on. Then they all turned their stares to Steve, who glanced at each in turn before nodding resolutely. Pietro didn’t notice any of this. All his attention was on Violet.

“I’m going for a walk,’’ she stated suddenly as she turned away from the flames, “you guys have fun while I’m gone.”

And before they could stop her, she left the room. Grabbing the bottle of spiced rum on her way out,

Pietro grated his teeth. Incensed and enraged at what just happened. Not at Violet. Definitely not at Violet. Peter. The boy who can do no wrong in Violet’s eyes is going to be the death of Pietro’s dearest friend. His most faithful companion. His . . . his . . .

 _His_.

Pietro turned to look at Steve. Steve looked back. The same rage was in those eyes. Quieter, contained, but still there. He’s just as pissed off as Pietro. That made his decision.

“I’ll do it,” Pietro stated suddenly.

Steve glanced at him curiously, “what do you mean?”

“Be your chosen,” Pietro responded bluntly, loving how Steve’s eyes widened.

“R-Really?” Steve stuttered, “are-are you sure?”

“I’ll be your Chosen, and all that comes with it,” Pietro continued firmly, “for a price.”

“Name it, and it’s yours.” Steve vowed, those wonderful blues striking and arousing.

Pietro had to take a deep breath to calm himself, to calm the zing between his legs. “Peter was right. It’s time someone looked out for her. Only it’s not from The Avengers,” he eyes flickered back to hallway Peter exited through. “It’s from him.”

Steve nodded, placing a calming hand on Pietro’s shoulder. “He’s her whole world.”

“It’s up to us to show her there’s more.” Pietro agreed, leaning further into Steve’s warmth.

“Not just us though,” Steve shifted his hand to Pietro’s other shoulder, pulling the Omega in tight for a hug. “We’re only part of it.”

Pietro sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, but eventually nodded in agreement. “Where are they?”

“Natasha’s in the study, Buck’s on his way outside.”

“How do you know that?” Pietro stared curiously at Steve. “What’s he heading outside for?”

Steve shook his head, pointing to his ear. Pietro leaned in to get a better look. Gasping, he saw an earbud. Steve was in contact with someone. Someone who was listening in, listening to the whole party. “Not what. Who.”

“Who then?”

Steve’s gaze shifted to Loki, who returned his pointed stare with a mischievous smile. “For her.”

Pietro’s eyes widened, realization dawning. “Did you guys plan this?”

“No,” Steve quickly answered. “Buck merely asked for an opening. The rest of it was Loki being Loki.”

“Opening for what?”

“To talk to her. Apologize for what happened with you. Explain some things. He knew it wouldn’t end well if he or Natasha came to the party as I did tonight. They knew it would only make things worse, drive her further away even if you decided to let them stay. Which, after what happened, was a big IF.”

“Damn straight,” Pietro grumbled, burrowing deeper into Steve’s warmth.

“The rest of it though,” Steve growled subtly, sending another zing in Pietro’s pants. “That wasn’t our doing, but that doesn’t mean we’re going to let this stand.”

“Are you talking about Loki or Peter?”

“Both,” Steve promised fervently. “Thor will handle Loki, give him a punishment that’ll make him docile and pliant for a few days. No need to worry about him.”

“What about Peter?” Pietro interjected softly. “What will we do about him? I can’t even slap the idiot without the threat of Violet ripping my fucking arm off. Even after all this bullshit.”

Steve pursed his lips, pondering the situation. “One step at a time. We’re not going to make any headway tonight. Probably not even in a month of separate isolation should it come to that. It’s going to take time. Work. They’re too strongly bonded to sever too quickly. They’ll resist. More importantly, it could do more damage than good to the pair.”

“Are you saying it’s hopeless. There’s nothing we can do?”

“Not at all,” Steve quickly assured. “I’m saying it will take time. Time that will come when it’s right.” Steve returned his tantalizing stare to Pietro. “If you would like to wait before you make this official, I’m more than okay with that. I’m not going to force you into this. I want this to be your choice, not because Buck and Natasha want it.”

Pietro stared back just as intensely despite flinching at the widow’s name. “You promise you’ll do that? Help Violet sees there’s more to her world than Peter fucking Parker?”

“Yes,” Steve answered a deep, throaty tone. “I swear.”

Pietro smirked, straightening up slightly. “I am your Chosen, Steve Rogers. Good luck dealing with me.”

Steve smirked back. “I’m up for the challenge.”

For two whole seconds, the two men stared at one another. Eyes intense. Hearts racing. Dick’s pulsing. Then, at what seemed like the speed of light, Pietro swung his body onto Steve’s. Straddling the Alpha’s hips and grabbing Steve’s face, Pietro kissed the living daylights out of him. Groaning at the friction of their clothed dicks, rubbing against one another, Steve kissed back just as passionately. Grabbing onto Pietro and holding him with everything he had.

With thoughts of Violet in his mind, Steve finally felt complete.

In the study, Natasha waited with bated breath, eager for what was to happen next.

In the halls leading to the bedrooms, Peter drunkenly skipped for joy as he sought out Tony.

In the halls leading to the exit, Violet stalked and seethed on her way out of the castle.

Outside, Bucky waited, knowing his Chosen would be there soon.

(Trying to Hold it in)

(worried about Violet)

(Angry Pietro)

(watching Violet go)

(Drunk Peter Parker)

Also, for a preview into next chapter, check out the **Pentatonix** version of **"Mad World"**. It helps inspire it. Bye! :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's moment is coming in the next chapter! I promise. He and Violet will get a moment, and more than a moment ;) together. It'll be worth the wait (I hope)! XD Thank you all so much! Please leave a comment and let me know what you think!


	31. Mad World: Violet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violet's thought process.
> 
> "Mad World" performed by Pentatonix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week sucked. Totally sucked. I'm not going to go into it, I'm just happy I was able to keep my promise and post something today. I wanted to do more, but I kept getting pulled in multiple directions and now I'm just exhausted. There will be more next week. I hope you guys are doing okay! Stay safe out there! :D
> 
> BTW, this is still technically a Drunken Lullaby chapter, but with the stuff I have planned for the pair, I wanted to give them a different title.

Chapter 30

Mad World: Violet

_Violet_

It was happening. After trying as hard as she could, weeks of standing tall and pushing back against the most terrifying force she’s ever encountered, and it was all for nothing. The dream, the nightmare from so long ago, was coming true. The nightmare that sent her waking up screaming in Alias Investigations after drinking with her friends and fighting off Kilgrave. The nightmare that ended with Peter on his knees, chest bare and a collar around his neck, mouth open wide as Tony guided his head to his groin, it was happening. It was really happening.

And Violet didn’t stop it.

Charging through the dim, stone hallways at a speed that shouldn’t have been possible due to her inebriated state, Violet tore off the blue plaid shirt Peter let her borrow. It was hard to do thanks to her drunken state and refusing to let go of the Spiced Rum, but somehow, she managed it. Peter’s grey t-shirt that states “you believe in telekinesis? Raise my hand.” went next. She put them back on after she and Rocket accomplished their shirt switching dare in the appropriate amount of time, something she berated herself for doing now. It was easier thanks to the stretching fabric and roomy nature. Soon, she was just in her bra and jeans with Peter’s shoes. She kicked them off with a muted scream, pleased when they knocked into the suit of amour, sending a reverberating clang throughout the corridor. She didn’t want them on. She didn’t want any of his things on.

She didn’t deserve to have them. These clothes were given to her by someone who trusted her to keep him safe. To protect him from dangerous foes that threatened (and wordlessly promised) to harm him. Something she absolutely failed to do on more than one occasion. What did she do when Tony and the Avengers took him from the Omega House? She ran off like a coward and went into heat like a bitch. What did she do when Peter went into heat in the middle of an escape? Got him kidnapped and herself shot, leaving him at the mercy of a fucking lunatic Alpha. Where was she when Peter was getting assaulted by Tony? Playing forced dress up and fielding questions from Bucky and Natasha. Where was she when Tony offered bullshit apologies after a week of enjoying his absence with the Guardians and the rest of the team? Walking away and leaving Peter to fend for himself. Where was she when Peter was caught in the lustful throws of . . .whatever they were doing in his room? Talking anatomy and truth bombs with a Doctor, not to mention saving Pietro from Nat and Bucky’s assault.

Where was she? Where was she when Peter and Tony met? When was she when Peter decided to let this Alpha into his life? Where was she when Peter decided, even after all the shit Tony and the Avengers put him through, that the Alpha was still someone he wanted to continue exploring. To continue his . . . relationship with him. Where was she?

Violet took a sharp drink from the bottle, bumping into the archway as she did. The stone was sharp and unforgiving, scraping the exposed skin of her shoulder as she forced herself through. Where was she? It didn’t matter now. Not anymore.

Especially since she’s dead set on going outside and losing herself into the blizzard she was sure was still raging. The blizzard that started when she was trying to save Peter and ended up getting the pair kidnapped for the effort. An effort that ended with her getting shot and the pair captured by the Avengers. The blizzard that seemed to follow them all the way from New York. The one that hasn’t stopped since she’s first awoken in this godforsaken castle. The one she sent Peter out into when the Winter Soldier emerged and hunted her down. The one she was determined to venture into, and never return.

She didn’t want to die, and that wasn’t her reason for this irrational and drunken notion. No, not die. Never die. If she’s going to die it’s going to be far wilder and more dangerous then walking into a blizzard with the hopes of freezing to death. No, she’s not going out there to die.

She’s going for the Quinjet.

If she were sober, she wouldn’t have gone through with it. Think about it? Yes, absolutely. She would have agonized over it repeatedly before eventually filing it away for a rainy day. Well, rainier day with all the recent bullshit put into consideration. No matter how hurt and betrayed Violet felt, she’d never leave her friends to fend for themselves. At least, not without her as back up should things get too overwhelming for them. Sadly, she’s not sober. She’s drunk off her ass, barely able to keep her balance as she pushed through corridors, knocking shit over as she went. She’s drunk, she’s pissed, she’s overwhelmed by all her failings, and not thinking clearly. Her only thought was the Quinjet.

And that’s where she’s going. What’ll happen once she gets there? No idea. Will she take it for a joy ride? Make some grand escape and head off to Paraguay, just like Jessica mentioned in the last meeting the Omega Protection Agency had. Will she even be able to get the Quinjet going? Violet didn’t know. All she knew was that she needed to do something, anything. She needed to get away, go somewhere, anywhere. She needed- she needed . . .

She needed to breathe. 

For weeks she’s been cooped inside. Not just here at the castle, but at the tower too. Trapped indoors with physical barriers to prevent her from escaping. Strong and lethal captor’s hell bent on keeping her contained and isolated from the outside world. It was a different type of Hell Violet wasn’t prepared for. A Hell she severely underestimated, but never will again.

There’s a reason she’s outside all the time, and it wasn’t because she was homeless. Karen, Wanda, and Jessica all offered their homes to her on many occasions. Jessica practically put a sign on her window at Alias investigations that said, “Vi, get your ass in here.” Peter did the same by clearing off the couch that he used for a laundry basket so that she’d always have a place to sleep when she stumbled in at 5:30 in the morning. Matt always kept a window propped open at the office and a cot in his office for her to sleep on. She knew Frank was only a phone call away, and would put her up somewhere safe and reliable to sleep. Wanda and Pietro always made sure she knew the Omega House was always open. She had places to go, places to live if she so wished. Yet she stayed on the streets. Why?

It was quite simple really. The longer she stayed inside, the harder it got to breathe. The more restless and jittery she became. The more the walls began to taunt her, the more the windows seemed to shrink. The more of everything closed in around her, and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. It’s why she always used windows instead of doors when she could. Why she never stayed at any one place for too long but would always come back to it later. It was too . . . small, too . . . trapped.

Claire diagnosed Violet as claustrophobic. Majorly so apparently. Violet disagreed with the severity, but not the prognosis. Why? Because it doesn’t overwhelm when at the worst and best of moments. In high intense situations, like these past few weeks, she can tune it out. Give her attention to other things like escaping the Avengers, dealing with invaders, running from Yasha, handling Betty and the Billy truth bomb. She’s managed it fairly well, especially during the week without Bucky, Nat, and Tony forcing their presence on her and Peter. That was mostly due to her getting to actually go outside and breathe for a bit, even with the blizzard raging on. It was a breath she needed. A breath that settled and grounded her when she needed it most.

And maybe that’s why the quinjet was such a loud, screaming thought in her head. Maybe what she really wanted, above all else, was to breathe. Just breathe.

With a last addled step, she got it.

Pushing through the last bit of doors, blistering cold air came whooshing at her and sending her for a loop. Somehow, she remained steady, even as the bare skin of her foot touched the snow. She almost dropped the rum but held on at the last second. A hand shot out to grab the stone threshold, helping to regain her balance, practically burning her skin from the freezing temperature. Her eyes shot wide, mouth dropping open, and a drunken smile adorning before suddenly slipping away.

It stopped snowing.

She stepped further out into the snowy landscape, dark thanks to the time of night, increasingly sober eyes taking in the scene around her. Fields of fluffy white surrounded the area. She was sure if she stepped out further (which she intended) and turned back to stare at the castle it would look like something you’d see on a Christmas card or movie special. She turned her nose up at that. Christmas wasn’t really her thing. Whenever her friends celebrated it, she’d either be drinking on top of a building or dress up as either the Grinch or Ebeneezer Scrooge. Everyone else can keep Christmas, Halloween and St. Patty’s Day were her Holidays.

She didn’t look back though. She kept moving forward, smiling with each breath she took and wincing with each step. Wincing more as the wind blew sharp, blistering bursts of cold at her, sending trails of terrible pain along her exposed skin. Each breath burned, the sharp exhale sending steam into the air. Violet’s smile grew. It was like she was exhaling all the bad out of her, all the pain and defeat ebbing through her body. The cold forced it out, the clean air brought her comfort and solace. It was so much better than New York. Even on the best of days, she could never breathe this good.

She was starting to lose feeling in her feet, fingers too, but she didn’t care. She was breathing, truly breathing in so long. _Make everything go away_ she thought, _make the pain go away. Just for a little while_.

She closed her eyes and tuned out everything. Pushing thoughts of Peter and his feelings for Tony out of her mind. Pushing away the stress and the exhaustion from dealing with all the bullshit she has. Forcing the truth of her brother’s death, and the punishment that ensued for the woman who was responsible, to a place she’d never have to think about it. She pushed it all away. Pushed it away and breathed. Just breathed.

Until she couldn’t.

A sharp, crunching sound crashed into her somewhat peaceful thoughts, forcing her to turn around and face the intrusion. She gritted her teeth, numbly adjusting the rum bottle in hand, and faced the very _unwelcome_ intruder. “What the Hell are you doing here?”

Though his face was shrouded in shadow, the silhouette he casted made his identity perfectly clear to Violet. With his long hair tied back in a messy bun, wearing tac pants and boots, gloves and a thick winter jacket, Bucky Barnes stood tall and menacing. Staring Violet down as she drunkenly adjusted into a defensive position. Body shivering and spasming from the sub-zero temperatures while those starry eyes burned and raged, completely unaffected.

“I’m here to do what no one else could,” he growled sharply.

Then he charged forward wordlessly, each step crunching as he quickly advanced on Violet.

(Facing Bucky)

(Find Violet in the Cold)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is Bucky's perspective. I wonder what he could possibly mean? Find out sometime next week :D. Please leave a comment and let me know what you think will/want to happen between the pair. I assure you, apart from a potential minor appearance from a mystery person who shall not be named, it's just these two. 
> 
> Thank you all again! I truly appreciate you.


	32. Mad World: Bucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky shows Violet what she's never seen before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the first time in a while, I have a somewhat decent reason for not posting as soon as I've liked. My internet and power went out. Ugh. I love the winter, don't get me wrong, but driving in it and shit like this are the banes of my existence right now. So, sorry the lateness, and hopefully you guys like the chapter. Thank you all so much for your comments, I really appreciate them!!! You're the best and I feel so blessed that you've stuck with my story. Hopefully this chapter was worth the wait! :D.

Chapter 31

Mad World: Bucky

_Bucky_

If there’s one thing in this world Bucky could never and would never stand to see, it’s the sight of someone he loves hurting. Hurting to the point where they couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, or see past the pain overwhelming and suffocating them. Hurting to the point where they’re driven to a state of mind that leads them to the point of no return. The point where death comes into play. The point Violet, his unyielding and nearly unbreakable Chosen, has been driven too.

Not on his fucking watch.

Bucky hasn’t been outside for long. Just ten minutes ago he and Natasha pulled back into the castle after dropping off a trembling Betty at the airport where Happy Hogan and his mate Pepper were waiting. They didn’t speak to her, didn’t look at her apart from brief checks to ensure she was in fact still with them. They pretended the woman didn’t even exist, even as she left the calm state of mind Bruce’s Alpha tone placed her in and slowly began to panic and cry. Cry and shriek at everything that occurred in the main room. Shriek and scream as she fought the cold hard facts. She was no longer a Chosen, she’s going to exile, and will be alone and powerless for the rest of her days for the lies and deceit she committed against Violet, Bruce, and the Avengers.

Just like Darcy.

It was the best thing Bucky and Natasha could have done for her. The best they could do considering the things they wanted to do. Things that involved severed limbs, sinew and bones exposed, blood spraying the pavement, fatal screams filling the cold night. Things their Violet wouldn’t approve of, and that was putting it mildly. Disgusted, enraged, and all the more motivated to escape them would be closer to the mark. A remarkable being with a golden heart and a bright soul. Blinding and mesmerizing. A star plucked from the sky and cruelly placed on this rotten world that couldn’t appreciate her brilliance even if bothered to try.

Bucky felt extremely lucky to stand at her side, to be in her presence, even when she resisted and continued to keep him and Natasha at a distance. A warrior who fought for what she believed in no matter the circumstances. Bucky couldn’t imagine a better Omega, a better mate, than Violet. He didn’t want to imagine. He just wanted her.

And he’d kill anyone who dared to hurt her.

Or in this case, stop her from hurting herself.

He figured she’d come outside. Something about the way her hands shook, how restless and jittery her body became over the increased time indoors, along with the increasing tension between her and her friends, made it clear to him that‘s where she would head when things became too much. He thought back to their earlier encounters. Facing her down in the alley outside of that decrepit waste of an apartment building he burnt down, watching her in Wanda’s kitchen as Natasha tried to talk to her for the first time, all the way to facing her down on the cafeteria floor in the tower after handling the invaders.

Though fatigued and exhausted at times, Violet was always steady. Steady and ready to act on a moment's notice. Since coming to Loki’s palace, based on what he's seen through the cameras Clint and Rhodey thankfully placed after Yasha came out, the only times she’s retained the steady nature was when she ventured outside to the Guardian’s Quinjet or playing the guitar (which he was thoroughly envious of missing). Otherwise, she’s jittery. Subtly flinching at every movement, every sound. Unless speaking to someone, her eyes continuously scanned the area of every room she took residence in. Staring longingly out the windows, through the doors, anything that led her outside into the harsh cold. Comparing those experiences, along with how calm and content she appeared to be in this horrible moment, Bucky's assumption was correct.

And now he furiously gritted his teeth as he watched his half naked Chosen walk deeper and deeper into the freezing, snowy landscape.

As he took his first step towards her, he couldn’t help but take note of how beautiful she is. He loved her hair, those wonderful curls he desperately wanted to run his hands through and bury his face in. He agreed with Natasha that the blue should be a lighter shade, but in this moment he didn’t care. She’s beautiful, and the only thing he planned on changing was not her fucking hair color. The graceful curve of her neck, purring at the sight of one of her scent glands on display. The way she subconsciously bit her lip as she bent her head forward, arms raising slightly to steady herself. The way her jeans, Peter’s jeans, hugged her ass left him aroused and wanting.

He could spend hours admiring her natural beauty, but he wouldn’t. Not this time. After his sultry gaze left her jeans, they turned cold and intense at the state of her. No shirt, no shoes, and a bottle of rum in her freezing hand. What was she thinking? Was she even thinking at all? He suspected this had to do with how she left the party. He wasn’t privy to it. Natasha opted to listen in while Bucky handled Betty and ensured she was shipped away and gone for good. He didn’t know what could have happened but based on this he knew it couldn’t be good. Half-naked in subzero temperatures all the while drunk off her ass. His darling? His chosen? His whole world? No. Fuck no.

Not on his watch.

Then she heard his advance, and jerkily turned to face him. Proving how far gone she really was. “What the Hell are you doing here?”

Her words slurred. Gaze hazy yet pointed as she straightened her back and faced him head on. She was drunk, trashed by the looks of things, but still ready to fight. It was unlikely she would fight well considering the inebriation and the freezing temperature, but that’s not going to stop her. Bucky wanted to smile at that.

He didn’t though.

“I’m here to do what no one else could,” he stated in a harsh, unyielding tone as he charged towards her.

As Bucky took those few steps towards her, he decided the best way to approach this. Her grip tightened on the bottle. The haze in her eyes began to clear, but not enough to stop him. She sank her bare feet deeper into the snow, that starry gaze staring him down and sending his mind whirling with possibilities, his heart thumping wildly, and his dick throbbing in his jeans. Preparing herself for a fight they both knew she would lose. It didn’t stop her though, and once more it made Bucky want to smile.

Those eyes would be the death of him, for in this solitary moment he decided they were the last things he wanted to see in the cruel, harsh world.

The first thing he did was knock the rum out of her hand. The next he dodged her incoming punch by ducking beneath it, and then grabbing her at the waist. Then she was in the air, slung over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Not even a second later her fists started attacking his back in futile attempts to release her as Bucky turned on his heel and headed back towards the castle, mentally scratching off the first item on his list for the plans he had tonight.

Well, almost.

He had gone a few steps when she started yelling at him. He was expecting a barrage of insults and threats to come his way for his deplorable action. Something that’s become somewhat of a character trait of hers. Fight for what’s right and rip the enemy a new one while she’s doing it. What he got was quite the opposite. She didn’t sound angry. She didn’t even sound determined. She sounded . . . sounded . . . scared. Pleading.

“Don’t take me back in there,” she yelled, tone sharp and scratchy, almost like she was holding back tears. “Don’t take me back there. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to see any of them.” She continued the sharp assault on his back, but the hits weren’t as powerful. Like she was losing steam as she continued. “I can’t deal with them right now. Not after that . . .that shit. Please . . . just let me . . . I can’t breathe in there. Not anymore. Just let me . . . just let me breathe. Let me breathe.”

The hits stopped. Her fingers clawed into his back, but so did her face. He feels it. He knows he feels it. It can’t be a trick of the mind, but it had to be. Right? Violet wouldn’t lean on him, she’s been trying to get away from him. From him and Natasha. From all the Avengers with Peter, and now Pietro, at her side. She wouldn’t lean on him, yet he feels it. It’s really happening.

The memory of how she clung to him, clung to him so tightly and desperately in her warm embrace after the Soldier attacked the Avengers. The memory of her scent, how comforted and relieved she smelled at his quick and vigorous reciprocation. The memory of how good, how right it felt to be in her arms. For her to be in his. It made him stop, it made him ponder. The Soldier brought about that action. A terrifying occurrence she shouldn’t have experienced. Something terrible and horrible.

Something that surely happened again.

What happened at the party? Bucky mentally cursed himself. Natasha asked him if he wanted to tune in, but Bucky declined. He and Natasha, along with Steve, decided to give him and Violet alone time tonight. He didn’t want the knowledge of the events at the party to taint this time he had with her. However, after hearing this frankly shocking confession from Violet made him quickly regret that decision. He took a breath, adjusting his grip on her legs. There’s no time to dwell. Right now, he needed to get Violet out of the cold. If she didn’t want to go back to the castle, so much so that she leaned on him and pleaded with him, then Bucky was going to take her to the next best place.

The Avengers Quinjet. The same one Brea nearly crashed and murdered them all with just last week. The castle was the better option, but there are few things inside the jet that Bucky can use to get Violet warm and toasty in a flash. She probably wouldn’t like it, but when Hypothermia and other maladies brought on by the cold threatened to overtake her, it didn’t matter what she liked. What mattered was keeping her safe and unharmed.

Something Bucky and Natasha really, _really_ , need to work on.

With a sharp huff, he turned away from the castle and towards the forest. The Guardian’s jet was parked out in the open for the whole world to see in the open fields in front of the castle. The Avengers weren’t so careless or arrogant about their placement. They hid it within a thicket of trees that were specially cleared out to fit the jet, then just as quickly covered with a technical form of camouflage special thanks to Tony and FRIDAY. If anyone happened to fly by for any particular reason (which is highly doubtful) then no one would catch even a glimpse of the jet. Even hikers and stranded people wouldn’t see it, but they would certainly feel it though when they bumped into it.

Thankfully, that’s never been an issue.

Violet didn’t fight back, well not much, as he made his way towards the jet. After a brief pause Bucky suspected she used to pull herself together, she resumed punching his back. She tried hoisting herself up in an attempt to elbow the back of his head, but Bucky countered by simply lowering her top half and continuing onwards.

He really should have thought better of that.

By lowering her down more, he allowed her better access to his weapon arsenal. Particularly the kabar knife at his waistband. He just realized his mistake when he felt her hands grab hold of it.

Fuck.

He hated doing it, but as he felt her pull the knife, he instinctively flipped the pair of them. Both of them moved in a dangerous, haphazard circle until both were on the snowy ground. Bucky on top of her, Violet huffing and scrambling beneath him. She had the knife, expertly swiping it at him despite her drunken state. Bucky couldn’t stop the smile this time. Frank taught her well. Bucky and Natasha would teach her better once everything finally settles down. He dodged just in time, catching the third swipe just as she somehow scurried out from under him.

Not for long.

He tossed the knife aside, grabbed her waist and flipped her onto her front. Kneeling on the back of the legs to ensure she could still breathe fairly well, Bucky grabbed her hands and forced them together behind her back. Metal hand holding her wrists together, his human hand reached behind him to grab the zip ties he always had stashed away next to his thigh holster. She put up more of struggle, cursing him out and expertly wriggling away from once more. Bucky grunted in amusement as he gingerly slipped the plastic around her wrists.

There’s his Violet.

“What are you doing?!” She shouted, shades of panic seeping into her voice.

He abruptly tightened the ties, checking to make sure they weren’t too tight. Next, he moved off her legs, almost losing her as she moved with the speed of a viper to get away from him. If she hadn’t been standing out here half-naked and shoeless, she might have been able to slip away. Unfortunately for her, that wasn’t the case. Still, it was only due to his enhanced reflexes that he was able to catch her feet before she managed to escape. Trapping her feet in his lap, he quickly bound them together with the zip ties once more.

“Fucking bastard,” she growled, unsuccessfully fighting his grip.

Once her feet were bound, he turned her over to her back once more, and descended upon her.

He hated the shrill of fear that welled up in those starry eyes yet pleased to see the bright flame of determination rival the terrible reaction. He didn’t want to scare her; it was the last thing he wanted to do. He just wants to make sure she’s okay, and safe. The fact that his version of safe was a striking contrast from her version of safe wasn’t important. What’s important is that she stops. Stop for this one moment. Stop trying to escape. Stop fighting him.

Just. Stop.

He placed his metal hand on her hip, careful to grab her jeans and not touch her skin with the freezing material. His gloved human hand covered her mouth. Not because he wanted to shut her up, merely to avoid the risk of her trying to bite or headbutt him as a last line of defense. The fear grew as her eyes widened, but the ever-present flame remained all the same.

“Listen to me,” Bucky whispered, leaning in close. His breath touched her face. Forehead touching her own. Fuck, she’s cold. He didn’t blink. Neither did she. “I’m not going to hurt you, I’m not going to touch you, and I’m not letting you stay out in the cold.” He growled that last part, brow furrowing as her breath began to quicken. Starry eyes widening once more with increasing fear. “I’m taking you to the Quinjet to get you warmed up and get you some new clothes. After that, we’re going to talk about what’s going on.”

Her head started shaking furiously. Back and forth, back and forth in short, jerky movements as she tried to crawl away from him once more. Brown furrowing, breath picking up painfully fast.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Bucky repeated, eyebrows raising as she started to whimper. Her eyes grew wet. Tears. She shook her head more furiously, trying to remove his hand. His jaw dropped. Oh God. He pulled away, staring at her in shock. Placing his hand in the snow next to her head, heart breaking as she drew in a gasping breath. A raking breath that sounded like she was trapped under water and just reached the surface. Bucky exhaled sharply, leaning back more as Violet started pleading once more in a fast, frenetic speed.

“Don’t take me inside – I don’t want to go inside – I can’t go inside – I can’t breathe inside-” she was speaking so fast. So fast she almost didn’t get the words out. Bucky tried to keep up, his own breath hastening as a result. “Please don’t make – please don’t – I – I – I can’t breathe inside – I – I – I can’t breathe – I – I – I can’t – I can’t – breathe – I can’t–”

Bucky didn’t think. He just acted. He knows this. He’s seen it. He’s felt this. She’s been through this before, not to this extent, but she’s experienced it before. He knows what to do. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into his lap in a fluid motion. He reached out to grab the Kabar knife he tossed aside only a moment or so earlier and cut the ties at her wrists. Immediately she tried to get away again, repeating the same mantra as she did. He merely held on tighter, turning her body so they were chest to chest. Face to face.

Shushing softly, foreheads touching once more, Bucky tried to soothe her. Look into those starry eyes and get her to focus on him. She might see him as the enemy, the asshole Alpha who kidnapped her and her surrogate brother, but she also leaned on him once. Held him close and breathed him in once. She also found comfort from him when she was lost in her nightmares. Or at least from his scent. That was enough for Bucky. Right now, that was enough.

“Violet,” he whispered to no avail. Her gaze was faraway, lost somewhere he couldn’t reach.

That doesn’t mean he’s not going to try.

“Violet,” he stated firmly, raising his voice the slightest bit.

No change.

He sighed, firming his resolve. It had to be done. There was no other way.

“ **Violet** ,” he growled slightly in his alpha tone.

That worked.

Her eyes focused on him, panic increasing. “No-no-no, please don’t-”

“That’s it baby,” he began whispering again, wrapping his arms around her carefully. “Just getting you attention. I’m sorry I had to do that.”

“I-I can’t breathe-”

“I know baby,” Bucky nodded, hot breath coating their faces. “And I know something that’s going to help. I promise. It’s going to help.”

“I don’t want- I don’t want to-”

“It’s nothing bad,” he whispered assuredly. “It’s very easy, and it won’t hurt you at all.”

“No,” Violet struggled to breathe, attempting to pull away while her eyes stayed connected with his.

“It’s okay baby, all you have to do is one simple thing. That’s it. Just one thing.”

Her chin wobbled, “w-w-what – w-w-what i-is i-it?”

Bucky smiled slightly, “Look up baby.”

Confusion furrowed her brow. “W-What?”

He moved his gloved hand to cup her face, thumb caressing her frozen cheek. “Look up.”

When Bucky said, “I’m here to do what no one else could,” he was talking about this. He was talking about what she revealed to him and Natasha the morning after Violet put a broken bottle to Tony’s throat and proved to everyone in the room that she could kill him anytime she wanted. When Violet laid out in their bed next to Natasha and answered all their questions in return for information and assurance and the state of her friends and pseudo family. When Violet revealed her favorite color (indigo), her favorite band (Temper Trap), and favorite liquor (Rum). Where she revealed her unfortunate views on sex. Revealed that he, Bucky, was the first one to kiss her. Ever. He felt terrible for the way it happened, but it warred with savage pride over having the honor to be her first in something.

But all of it paled in comparison to the biggest reveal. The reveal of what she wants most in this world, apart from she and her friends escaping the Avengers. The reveal of what she truly desired.

To see the stars.

Bucky pulled away just enough to allow her to move. She still looked confused, staring at him with those panicked eyes until she rolled them, and followed through.

The effect was instantaneous.

Her breathing slowed down so much Bucky feared she stopped breathing all together. The line between her brows melted away as each of them raised in shock. She stopped shaking. Stopped stuttering. Her mouth opened until it formed a delicate O shape. For once, Bucky wasn’t drawn into salacious thoughts over the action. Instead, he was drawn back into those eyes.

He’s seen them wild with rage. Burning with determination. Broken and lost. Confused and wary. Even wet from tears and guilt. Now though, now was something different. Something he never expected to see. Something that cracked his cold, frigid heart, and allowed warmth to bloom after so many years lying dormant in the cold hate and vengeance wrought. Something that can only be described as childlike wonder.

It was the most beautiful, and pure thing he’ll ever see.

“Are-” she started, voice soft and clear, “are they real?”

Bucky smiled, “yes baby. They’re real.”

Her chin trembled once more. “Am I dead?”

His thumb reached out to brush her chin, fingers trailing along her jaw. “No baby. You’re not dead. You’re very much alive.”

She blinked, leaning into his touch without a thought. “I don’t feel alive.”

“Why’s that baby?” His eyes narrowed, cupping her cheek.

She leaned into it further, chin trembling once more. “Because there’s no pain.”

A single tear fell down her cheek, voice breaking over the last word.

It took all his willpower to not kiss that tear away.

(Right as she looks up)

(Realizing what's happening)

(A bit of a preview)

(Another preview, but for who?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time on Be Brave, Little Fox. Violet and Bucky spend some time beneath the stars and get to know one another a little better. And not just in words ;). 
> 
> Thank you guys again! You're amazing. Please leave a comment and let me know what you think! :D


	33. Mad World: Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stories create memories. What memory will Bucky and Violet create tonight?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween :D
> 
> Fair warning, slightly NSFW image at the end lol.
> 
> Also, if you're really not a fan of Bucky, don't hate me. *slowly slinks off in a corner*

Chapter 32

Mad World: Together

_Both of them_

“When I was growing up, my Dad used to tell me all sorts of stories. Stories that always ended with some lesson he thought I needed to learn, and sometimes I really did. I wasn’t the best of kids. I tended to get into a lot of fights with bullies, even teachers when they were being mean to some of the kids. The not so fun stories were delivered on those days.” Violet shrugged, continuing without a breath. “My favorite stories were of aimless wanderers getting lost in the woods, or places unknown to them, only to find their way home using the stars as a map. Or maybe it was a compass? I don’t know. They used the stars to find their way home, and ever since then I’ve wanted to see them.” Violet whispered softly, staring unblinkingly at the night sky with her own starry eyes. Wide and childlike as they gazed in utter amazement.

“I was more curious than anything. How could the stars be used like that? They look nothing like a map or a compass. Not at all. So, how can they be used as such? He told me about the north star, and how former slaves would use it to lead them out of the South and away from their masters. Lead them to the Underground Railroad where people, good people, would take them away from their enslavement and make them free. Send them off to the Union to live better lives. I once asked him ‘ _How could they find the North Star? How can I find the North Star? I don’t know where North is even with your lucky compass._ ’ He’d laugh and mess with my hair. ‘ _I can go into a long and complicated answer about land terrain, movement of the sun, or scientific jargon you wouldn’t understand. Instead I think I’ll spare you and give you the short answer._ ’ I always appreciated that. My attention span wasn’t that great then. Kind of like a goldfish at times. He’d put his hand on my shoulder and look me dead in the eyes. ‘ _The way they find the North Star is because someone shows them where and how to find it. Just like I’ll do with you next time we’re at the beach._ ’ I was really looking forward to that, but he never got to do it though.”

She took a deep breath, lips quirking into a small smile. “One time when I was six, he was going on about the stars again, and I asked him, _‘why do you like the stars so much? Is it because they help find your way home?_ ’ He shook his head, smiled at me and messed with my hair. He really liked to mess with my hair. I miss that.” Her smile grew slightly. “Then he told me what the stars meant to him. What they really meant to him. They were more than a way to find home, they were symbols of something good. Something pure. Something he was glad he finally got to share with me.”

For the first time since she laid her eyes on the starry sky, Violet closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip. Smile blinding and pure. “He said that stars resembled all the souls of people, living and passed on, that live or lived their lives with hope in their hearts and performed good deeds. Not for selfish reasons or intentions, but simply for the needs of others. To help those around them when they needed it, especially when they couldn’t help themselves. To be of service to our fellow man. To look outside of ourselves and experience the world as we all should.” She opened them once more, breathing in deep. “And then when they pass, they become stars, and watch over the rest. Watch over the ones who dare to live as they did. To live as the ones who become stars in the end.”

She sniffed, shuffling slightly on Bucky’s lap to a more comfortable position. “I was born in Brooklyn, but I wasn’t raised there. Dad was in the Air Force, so we moved around a lot. Went from city to city. If there’s anything you need to know about living in the city, it’s that it’s the worst place to go stargazing. Especially in places like D.C., New York City, Boston. It’s kind of impossible. Dad thought about driving me out of the city, go to some small town or something to do it, but we never got to. Too busy with work, surprise visitors, fights and arguments we had over stupid things, and then death.” She flinched at the word, and Bucky squeezed her hand gently with his flesh one. She squeezed back, making him smile. “I used to have a cat. His name was Aragorn. He ran away the day my dad died.” She sniffled again before shaking her head jerkily. “I asked him once, ‘ _why can’t we see the stars Dad? Is it because of all the lights, or is it something else?_ ’”

She stopped suddenly, breathing in a sharp breath. Straightening her back and squaring her shoulders like she was a warrior preparing to enter a battle. Bucky’s smile grew. Even lost in a daze, hurt and spiraling beyond imagining, his darling is always ready for a fight. Bucky couldn’t believe how lucky he was.

“We weren’t on the best of terms that day. I punched my teacher after she said something mean to my friend Groot. He didn’t understand what he was supposed to be doing. He didn’t know he was doing anything wrong. She yelled at him and put him in timeout because she thought he was being belligerent. He wasn’t, and I told her that. She wouldn’t listen to me. Teachers rarely did. I don’t blame her. I was one of those kids that would ask random questions about things that didn’t matter, so they tended to tune me out. She grabbed him by the arm, hurting him as she did. It wasn’t intentional. He fell off the jungle gym during recess but didn’t want to tell her about it. It made me see red though, so I jumped up and punched her, then pulled Groot away from her. I was suspended for a few days and Dad had to leave work to come get me because the babysitter was sick, and Billy was out of town. Add it all up, not a good day.”

She squeezed Bucky’s hand again, and he had to fight the grin that threatened to overtake his face. “I asked that once we stopped arguing. Asked him about the stars. He had to take a moment to breathe, to calm down because he was still angry with me. Angry at the whole situation. Eventually he was able to say, ‘ _When you live in a place full of dark intentions, you’re blinded by what other people want you to see. It’s up to those with goodness in their hearts, people like us, to see through the fog and find what’s real. To find the stars through the haze the world creates._ ’ He sent me to my room after that, but he came back an hour later with a bag of chocolate chips and a mixing spoon. ‘ _Brownies and Hocus Pocus?’_ ” Violet laughed, shaking her head. “We never stayed mad at each other. We were all we had, there’s no time to be mad at each other.” Her smile began to dim, a line furrowing between her brows. “I wonder how Groot’s doing. Can’t remember the last time I’ve seen him. He was a good kid. A really good friend. We used to share our doodles and drawings during Math time. I hope he’s happy.”

Bucky held Violet tightly in his lap, face nuzzling the side of her exposed neck, and hands placed exactly where they should be. One wrapped around her waist and settled safely on her hip, the other holding his darling’s hand. Fingers laced through hers. It took a while to warm her up, what with her insistence and desperate need to keep the stars in her sights at all times. As such, Bucky was forced to keep the main ramp of the Quinjet open as he sorted through the equipment he needed to warm her up. Equipment Bruce and Tony created to keep the team warm and safe during missions in the far north. Little bits of nanotech they each put in little slots of their clothes. The tech would connect and extrapolate, just like the devices used to keep fresh stitches dry and clean and send heat signatures that would warm and soothe the body in a manner of seconds. They worked so well, they saved Clint from losing his toes to frostbite a few years back.

That’s exactly how he was able to get Violet warmed up so quickly. He littered the bits of nanotech throughout each piece of clothing he gave her, most of which was Natasha’s because the Alpha was closer to her size than most on the team. The first were socks after drying them off. Next was a new pair of grey pants (careful to keep his eyes closed so he wasn’t tempted to stare at something he shouldn’t) that were thicker and more reliable in the cold. Next were thick, black winter boots that were sturdy, yet lightweight. Next came a white undershirt, a grey t-shirt, and then two thermals. The first, dark red in color, was Natasha’s. The second, pitch black, was Bucky’s. Then came the thick black winter coat Natasha never wore, a grey beanie that was a little too big for her but did its job, and then thick black gloves with fur inside to keep her warm.

Her eyes never left the stars. Not once. So in a trance, Bucky was suddenly terrified by the idea of all the things that could happen to her if the wrong person caught her in this vulnerable moment. Terrified because just a few weeks ago, he’s afraid he would have been that awful person. Afraid that the Soldier, Yasha, was still that person.

He picked her up once she was clothed and the nanotech was doing its job. He carried her in his arms and headed towards the castle. They didn’t go inside. He took her to a spot in the front near where the Guardians Quinjet idled in the snow. There were chairs and a campfire Bucky set up before heading over to fetch her. The place where he originally intended to show her the stars and begin forming some sort of bond with the wonderful woman in his arms.

He thought about setting her down in a separate chair, but for the first time tonight his possessive side came out and urged him to take her with him to his chair and set her down in his lap. So, that’s what he did, and not once has she moved from this spot. In fact, she was the one to grab his hand. Not the other way around.

She didn’t speak during all of this. Not once. Bucky had to strain his ears to make sure she was still breathing. So silent. It was disconcerting. Worrying. Bucky was tempted to make conversation, something that’s not his strong suit.

Then she started talking, and it was heaven.

“I’m sure he is,” Bucky responded softly. Nose skimming the edge of her jaw. “You draw?”

She shrugged, “sometimes. I’m not that great at it. Music’s more of my thing.”

“So I’ve heard,” he smiled, shaking her slightly, “Steve’s an artist too.”

“Really?” She cocked her head towards him, eyes never straying from the stars. “That’s really cool. What got him started?”

“Well, he used to be around your size,” he jostled her slightly, “a real twink. Kept getting into fights too without the muscle and coordination to back him up, but he had a real temper when it came to bullies. Real bad one, though he’ll never admit it. He didn’t have anyone to show him the right way to take them down, nor did he have the strength to take them. Got beat up a lot, but nothing ever kept him down. His Ma got him started on drawing to try and calm him. She was an artist too. She was good, but he was better. It used to be to calm him down, and then it was his way to capture the things he loved and admired the most. Mostly landscapes and scenery. People too, but not many. There are only a few people he truly admires and respects. I’ve no doubt you’ll be on that list if you’re not already.”

She leaned into him slightly, “do you like to draw?”

“Nah, I was never the type.”

“I bet you were the Golden Boy,” Violet chuckled softly, the jostling his metal hold around her waist. “The perfect guy who wandered the halls in your football jersey and million-dollar smile, dragging along your angry artsy friend as you wink at the girls ogling you from the lockers.”

Bucky grunted in amusement, “not far off. I would have dragged Steve along with me if I could, but normally I was searching the halls and alleys trying to find him.” He shook his, smiling at the memory. “Ever fucking time that kid went missing he was getting pounded by some asshole for one reason or another.”

“And you stepped in to defend his honor,” Violet grinned, chest shaking with laughter.

“In a way,” Bucky conceded, pondering the titillating idea. “It always pissed him off though.”

Her laughs grew louder. “Steve said that you both took the serum thing when you the army, right?”

“Yeah,” Bucky answered with a nod.

“And he went from my size to your size, right?”

“Yes,” Bucky answered, growing suspicious as her laughter continued to escalated.

“So, in other words, he went from an angry, barking chihuahua to a stoic and loving Golden Retriever?”

Bucky snorted, burying his face in the side of her neck. She leaned into it, laughter ringing into the cold night air.

“That’s one way to put it,” he responded softly, “something I’m definitely going to tell him about.”

“Go ahead,” she shrugged. “Let’s see if that’ll crack his stoic expression.”

“I’ve no doubt it will,” Bucky grunted, breathing her in deep.

They chuckled for another moment or so before it finally died out. Silence filled the area around them, but it wasn’t awkward. It was nice. Comforting. Bucky held on tighter, breathing in her sweet scent as long as she would allow him. She squeezed his hand once more, thumb brushing the side of his hand gently. He couldn’t seem to stop smiling.

Until she spoke again.

“Why is Natasha so cruel?” Violet asked suddenly, the laughter abruptly gone from her voice. 

He sighed. Unsurprised and filled with a small amount of dread at the question. “She doesn’t know any better, baby.”

“What do you mean?”

“She didn’t have much of a childhood. Barely has any memories before her time in the Red Room. All her life she’s been trained to be one thing. A weapon. An emotionless, lethal weapon that would be the lynchpin for any organization lucky enough to obtain her. All the things she knows about being human are merely devices to be used in the form of a mission or eliminating a target.” He held onto Violet, anxious and desperate to keep her with him. To keep her in this moment just a bit longer. “If we weren’t meant to be mates baby, she’d still be where she was. Where I was being held and tortured.”

“HYDRA, right?”

“Right,” he nodded jerkily, flinching at the name. “If she didn’t see me, and I didn’t see her, we’d both be far worse than we are today. Monsters would be a kind word for what we could have been.”

“That doesn’t excuse her though, right? I mean, that was years ago.”

“You are right,” he kissed her shoulder, unable to stop himself. “Doesn’t help that The Team turned into what it did. My captivity, Tony’s captivity, Natasha’s lethal ways, Steve’s anger, all of it broiling together and making the worst combination for our enemies imaginable. We lost our way, baby. I don’t know if we’ll ever find our way back.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “She’s learning though. Doing her best, especially by you. If she wasn’t, she would have done so much worse to your friend. Believe me, I know.”

She turned her head towards him, glancing at him for the first time since he showed her the stars. “You haven’t apologized for that.”

Bucky nodded, trying not to get lost in her beautiful gaze. “I know. Natasha and I wanted to do it together. Apologize to you and Pietro both, if you’ll allow us.”

“And Steve,” a line formed between her brows. “You hurt him too.”

Bucky’s breath caught at that. “Steve too. Definitely.”

Her stare grew intense, appraising him carefully. “You promise?”

“I promise,” he swore in a solemn tone, squeezing her hand in assurance.

She stared at him for a moment longer, biting her lip shyly. “Do you ever have nightmares? Not normal ones that everyone has, but the types that feel like a memory and turn into something awful and scary? Something that’s not a memory by the end?”

“Sometimes,” he answered automatically, confusion clouding his expression. “Do you have dreams like that?”

She nodded, turning slightly in her spot to fac him better. “Yes.”

He straightened up slightly, confusion replaced by worry. “Wil you tell me about it?”

And for the next few minutes, Violet explained in detail the reoccurring nightmare that always starts the same. The nightmare that starts with her running for her life and taking refuge in a junkyard. To the red, beat up mustang she hides in and waits for an opening to escape. To the part that always changes. To all the horrible things that couldn’t have possibly happened for their utterly outlandish displays and new participants who couldn’t have been there no matter how terrifying it would be if they were. She told him about all of it, each and every detail, including the new information that felt so different than all the iterations beforehand.

“It wasn’t like the rest of the nightmare.” She insisted, eyes wide and pleading. “It felt real, so real. I can remember feeling the bag in my hands. The wind on my face, the smell of the area, the leaves crunching under my shoes. Remember what each of the vials said and everything. I remember.”

Keeping firm control over his expression, Bucky gently shushed her, placing his forehead against her own. “I believe you, baby. Tell me what the vials said.”

Her answer was the last thing Bucky could have ever expected. Something that shattered his own stoic expression. Something that shook him to his very core.

“ _SSS. Dr. Abraham Erskine. Project Rebirth._ ”

SSS stands for Super Soldier Serum, the serum he and Steve were administered with all those years ago. Abraham Erskine was the mastermind behind all of it, along with the one who specifically chose he and Steve for the test subjects. One of many who died in the explosion. Project Rebirth was the name of the whole Operation.

Bucky dimly remembered there being rumors of vials going missing before the explosion occurred. Remembered seeing frantic scientists traipsing up and down hallways in their search. Remembered feeling unconcerned while Steve was all hands on deck so to speak. With this information from the most shocking source, Bucky no longer felt unconcerned,

He was terrified.

“Baby,” he growled, not aggressively but enough to show his sudden change in mood. He was both pleased and surprised to see that Violet wasn’t scared by the change, merely curious and concerned. “What happened to those vials? Do you remember what you did with them?”

She nodded, starry eyes burning bright. “We buried it somewhere far away from the bike. Near a truck between a thicket of trees.”

“Who’s we?”

“I . . .” she bit her lip, “I don’t know. I can’t remember. Can’t see his face. I know he was good though. A really good friend. Someone I trust.”

Bucky’s breathing became really fast. “And you both buried it? Buried in a place only you can find it?”

She nodded vigorously. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure. Why?”

His heart beat a thousand miles an hour. Tears, happy and joyful tears threatened to well and spill from his eyes. This woman. This wonderful, perfect woman was a fucking angel. Bucky always knew that. Now he had more proof of it.

He released her hand, let go of her waist. Both hands reaching up to cup her face. Her eyes widened in surprise, her own hands reaching up to grab his in surprise. “Bucky?”

“Baby,” he started, sounding relieved and weightless, “will you let me kiss you?”

Her eyes almost popped out of her skull. “What? Why?”

“Because you stopped HYDRA from enacting out a horrible plan without even realizing it. You stopped them from making more of me,” his voice broke at that, “from taking men and torturing them into brain-washed, weaponized puppets. You stopped them baby. You stopped them, and now I just want to kiss you . . . if you’ll let me.”

Those starry eyes whizzed back and forth between his eyes. “Is that all you’re going to do?”

He wanted to say yes, to ease her worries and stay true to his word. “May I scent you too? Nothing more. I promise. I just . . . I just want to keep you safe. Knowing HYDRA had you, even for that short time, it’s driving me nuts. Knowing you were able to thwart them without even trying makes me so fucking proud of you.” He pulled his human hand away, opened his mouth and bit into the finger of the glove. Quickly and deftly pulling the suddenly offending fabric off. Then his placed his human hand back on her cheek, finding relief at touching her cold skin. Letting the glove fall onto his chest. “Please baby, I just want to protect you. Please, please let me.”

She didn’t answer right. Eyes wide and almost doll like in their shock. Then her lips stopped trembling, eyes narrowing slightly. She pulled away, sending a sharp pain through Bucky’s heart, but she didn’t go far. She grabbed his metal hand, staring him dead in the eye as carefully pulled off the glove, and dropped it onto the other glove. Then, without blinking, she placed the metal hand back on her cheek. “They’re both you.”

Bucky almost cried at that, leaning back in closer. “Please?”

Her eyes searched his a few moments longer. What she was searching for he wasn’t quite sure. Deception? Manipulation? Dishonesty? Whatever it was she didn’t find. Something he was more than grateful too. She took a deep breath and steadied herself once more. “Promise me I won’t regret this.”

Oh, he wishes it were that easy. “I promise I’ll do my damndest to make sure you don’t.”

Another breath. A longer stare. Resolve.

“Okay,” she nodded, “you may.”

He waited a total of two seconds before moving in, two seconds to ensure she was firm in her decision, then his lips were on hers. They were warm, and soft. So gentle. He could feel the tiny scars form the busted lips she must have sustained over the years. Felt her teeth scrape his tongue as her mouth opened for him, allowing him inside of her.

And he thought he knew heaven just by having her on his lap and talking to him like a normal human being.

His dick went from zero to sixty, a growl escaped him as he deepened the kiss, human hand tangling in her hair and knocking the beanie aside. It felt so good, so fucking good it was almost too good to be true. And then it got worse when something that nearly broke him.

She was kissing him back. Her hands tangled in his hair too, pulling out the bun and letting it flow freely. Her other hand unzipped his jacket, forced their way under his shirts and went straight to his abs. It was an odd sensation considering she was still wearing her gloves, but Bucky wasn’t going to complain about it.

The kiss was slow, steady, and exactly what it needed to be. Not too much for Violet to handle, but just enough for Bucky to convey how much he cares about her. To show her how he really felt, to do what words so often failed to do in his case. To convince her that he’s there for her, that he’ll protect her and care for her whenever she needs it. Just like the people who became stars. He can’t do it for the world and the people in it, but he can do it for his world. His Violet. He’ll do it without complaint.

She pulled back suddenly, forehead still touching his. Catching her breath, lips trembling and wet. Eyes wide with shock. “What am I –“she looked everywhere but him, “I don’t know what I’m doing. I shouldn’t be doing this –”

“Baby, it’s okay.” Bucky gently shushed her, nose rubbing against her own. “I’m right here baby. It’s going to be okay.”

She took a deep breath. Then another. And another. She closed her eyes, and leaned against him more. He smiled at that, leaning up to kiss her forehead with an ardent force only he could possess.

Then he lowered his face back into the crook of her neck. “Is this still okay baby?”

At her nod, he buried his face into the right side of her neck and opened his mouth. He breathed heavily on her scent glands, exhaling sharply until they opened up just enough for him to complete the next part. Pulling away the collar of his jacket, then of his shirts before adjusting the collar of hers. He pulled her closer, lifting her slightly.

Then he rubbed their scent glands together, and the scent around them was absolutely intoxicating. With normal Omegas, an Alphas scent would completely mask their own, protecting them from unwanted attention. This though, what’s happening with Violet, was not normal.

It was extraordinary.

His scent didn’t mask hers. It intermingled. The whiskey stayed true, as did the dewy forest, but everything else melted away. The campfire, sea salt, and berries stayed true with hers. Together they made the most intoxicating scent Bucky’s has ever felt in his entire life. A scent that calmed him, warmed him, and made him feel . . . feel . . . loved.

“How do you feel baby?” He found himself asking, unable to stop himself.

“I . . . I feel . . .” she started but didn’t continue. He held on a bit longer, rubbing their scent glands a little more, and then finally pulled away, cupping her face in his hands.

“What was that baby?”

Her eyes still burned, but they were hazy. High almost. Bucky smiled at that. Loving how she was just as effect as he was.

“I feel . . .” she started again, eyes wandering for a few seconds before landing on him once more. Striking, fierce. “I feel . . . wanted.”

He leaned back in, lips brushing her own. “You are baby. You are so wanted.”

Then they kissed again, chaste and brief, but still a kiss.

Bucky put his gloves back on and adjusted their clothes so they were warm again. Violet shifted in his lap, but instead of facing away, she laid on him. Resting her head on his shoulder, exposing her lovely neck, and staring up at the stars once more. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips to her skin every chance he got. Eventually he started carting his fingers through her hair, earning gentles purrs from her as he did. They stayed like that until the morning dawn where the stars melted away with the emergence of the sun. Only when the stars disappeared did she finally sleep, and he finally moved.

Carrying her sleeping form in his arms and taking her back to the castle with a joy and relief and never thought he’d find. Yet he did. He found joy. He found peace. He found his Chosen.

Through Violet.

(you know lol)

(again, you know lol)

(need I say more XD)

(It's nice to see her happy :D)

(Smiling Bucky is the best! :D)

AND!!

(Preview for the next chapter!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter = Hangover: Little Fox edition. Staring Pietro Maximoff, Peter Parker, and Violet Mason. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! 
> 
> Leave your reactions in the comments! XD


	34. Hangover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Checking in post Drunken Lullaby.
> 
> Partially inspired by "On My Own, Here I Go" by Green Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my best, pretty rough around the edges, but I got it done(ish) and now I'm posting it. Hope you guys are doing great! Please take care and let me know what you think! Thank you all so much!!!

Chapter 33

Hangover

_Omegas_

Peter, Pietro, and Violet all had very different outcomes proceeding their impromptu and detrimental drinking night. Each Omega got very drunk, experienced some form of revelation they weren’t entirely prepared for, and went their own way with an Alpha they didn’t really know. They spent the night with said Alpha and woke up the next day feeling both naked and complete in some way, shape, or form with a growing bond they didn’t expect to occur. A bond that none of them could bring themselves to regret.

Even Violet.

By approximately 2:45 the following afternoon, the Three Omegas remained unmated and wandering towards the main room. However, they were not untouched. A fact that was partially lost on them when they each first awakened.

Pietro was the first. A few hours prior, the harsh afternoon light moved across his face which finally prompted the sleeping Omega to open his eyes, then immediately closed them due to it’s blinding pain. He groaned in annoyance, hiding his face deeper in the pillow on his bed. Or he would have if his head was on a pillow. He opened his eyes a smidge, shifting his head slightly to get a better look while blinking the blind spots from his eyes. It was an arm. A muscular, droolworthy arm with little bite marks on his triceps. The arm that deliciously held Pietro in all the right places, keeping him still and steady in the best ways, before that calloused hand grabbed him by the hair and shoved him face down in the mattress as it’s owner fucked him like an animal.

Pietro smiled at the memory. What a pleasant way to remember last night’s drunken antics. His shifted his body, intent on turning over and adding more tiny bite marks to other areas of the Alpha’s body but stopped abruptly. There was a pull. Something strong and rock hard that kept him in place. _Uh oh_ , he couldn’t help but think as he carefully looked behind him. His backside was practically welded to the Alpha’s front. Another arm was wrapped around Pietro’s middle. Possessive yet protective in the way it held him. Pietro took a breath, then squeezed his ass.

“Shit,” Pietro cursed silently.

Steve knotted him. 

There was a grumble behind him, deep and sleepy. The arm around his middle tightened, pulling him impossibly closer. Steve pressed his face into Pietro’s hair, breathing deeply. “Pietro?”

“Wake up, Steve.” Pietro grabbed Steve’s hand, squeezing it tight as he comfortably snuggled deeper into the Alpha’s embrace.

“What’s wrong?” His voice sounded less sleepy now. “Are you okay?”

Pietro smirked. “Shift your hips a bit and you’ll find out.”

Steve did so, though he made a very pointed groan of sleepy annoyance before he did though. He shifted his hips, and Pietro moaned at the lovely movement. Burrowing deeper to get more friction. However, once Steve moved his lower half, he gasped and tried to move away.

“Oh fuck,” he cursed in shock. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s okay,” Pietro laughed, moaning a bit more as he followed Steve’s movement, and pushed that wonderful cock back to its former position. All the way to the hilt and settled perfectly inside of Pietro’s ass. “I take the birth control shot outside of my heats a few times a year. I’m not having Pups anytime soon without my consent. It’s all good.” He shifted his ass from side to side, loving the way moved around inside him. “Besides, there’s a bright side to waking up with your knot in my ass.”

Steve didn’t answer immediately. The arm that was Pietro’s pillow pulled away and out from under him. Pietro frowned, whimpering at the loss of contact, until Steve’s body shifted once more, and the Alpha’s face came into view. Hovering slightly over Pietro’s side. The Omega shifted slightly to see his Alpha better.

“And what would that be?” Steve asked huskily, fingers brushing over Pietro’s curved lips.

“Well,” Pietro grinned, “we get another chance to make that knot go down. Then maybe after, if you’re good for me, I’ll swallow you down again. How does that sound?”

Steve’s breath got heavier. Eyes darkening, mouth opening in ecstasy. Thumb pulling Pietro’s bottom lip before letting it fall back into place.

“Where have you been?”

Pietro’s tongue flicked out to lick Steve’s thumb. “It doesn’t matter where I’ve been. For this moment, all that matters is right now. And right now I’m in your bed with your knot in my ass and in approximately 12 seconds I’m going to kiss the fucking shit out of you before you turn me over and fuck me like the animal you were last night. And when that knot goes down we’re going to that shower where we’ll worship each other with kisses and soap bubbles. Then, if you’re that good boy I spent the night with,” Steve moaned at that, “I’ll take you back in my throat and suck you down until you can’t get it up.” Pietro reach up suddenly, grabbing Steve’s hair in a gentle grasp. The alpha instinctually leaned into his touch. “And if you’re a really good boy, I’ll even let you take pictures.”

Steve was back on him then. Lips smacking, biting, sucking each other in a mad fury fueled by an insatiable lust. Then Pietro flipped onto his front before being lifted and placed on all fours. He cackled in excitement, and then nothing but moans and pleas of passion as Steve grabbed him by the hips and pounded deep inside of the Omega. Both finding a pleasure and connection they’ve never felt with another.

Well, other than with Violet and the rest of the potential pack of course.

The rest of their time in the bedroom (and the bathroom) went about as Pietro described. Truthfully, they would have been tempted to go for the rest of the day and even all night if Loki hadn’t intruded. Steve was needed in the Study where the Avengers were to have a long and overdue meeting while Pietro was requested in the main room by his sister. Steve had changed into black jeans and a long-sleeved grey crew neck. Pietro wore dark, distressed jeans and one of Steve’s clean work out shirts. It fit him almost perfectly because Steve has a penchant for getting shirts too small for him, something Natasha thoroughly encouraged. They shared a mutual and intimate goodbye through an enveloping hug and even softer kiss. Then with mutual reluctant sighs, the pair departed.

Peter couldn’t remember much of what happened the previous night. All he knew was that when he woke up his body was sore, covered in all sorts of bruises that Peter recognized from rope bondage thanks to his preferred way to spend his heats, and his jaw was hurting. There was a funny taste in his mouth too. A salty taste he couldn’t recall trying when he was drinking. Then again, he had been drinking a lot. He remembered flashes of being bound, of Tony petting his hair while he laid bound and comfortable at his side on the bed before he fell asleep. He remembered there being a ball gag Tony had him wear for a bit, something Peter was overly enthusiastic about trying at the time. With the soreness in his jaw, he started wondering if he had been a bit too enthusiastic about it. He wasn’t sure what caused the bondage session, but Peter wasn’t complaining about it. All the important areas didn’t feel any different than they had before he started drinking the previous night, so he figured everything was okay.

He had slept next to Tony, cuddled and wrapped around the Alpha like an innocent puppy seeking warmth from its mother. Peter felt good, so good when he first woke up, then his eyes popped wide out of his head, and he shot up from the bed looking wildly around the room. Why was he in there? Where’s Violet? What happened last night?

Tony managed to calm him down, slowly recounting what happened once he reached Tony’s room and why he was there in the first place. A brief, yet thorough, explanation that ultimately boiled down to, “Violet said it was okay for you to spend time with me, and you took her up on her offer. Not entirely sure why it all happened, but I’m certainly glad it did sweetie.” Then Tony smiled his charming, million-dollar smile, and pulled Peter in close. Whispering kind, encouraging words while leading him to the bathroom so the Omega could take a shower. Peter went along with it, mind still whirling on why Violet would let him hang out with Tony in the first place, especially after everything they’ve been through these last couple of weeks.

Eventually, with the help of the warm spray of the shower, Peter calmed his mind and relaxed. He exited the shower after washing and rinsing off, then changed into the clothes Tony laid out for him. His black ‘Physicals is theoretical, but the fun is real’ t-shirt with olive green pants, red boxers, white socks, and black boots that were better suited for the cold environment. Tony stepped out into the hallway while Peter changed, only coming back in with a black hoody emblazoned with the Avengers insignia when Peter called to him through the door.

“Cute as always baby,” Tony commented, eyeing the Omega up and down as Peter gratefully took the hoody and pulled it on. Blushing all the while. “I wish we could spend more time together, but unfortunately I have a meeting I need to attend to. Jarvis, the Maximoffs, Rhodey, and Loki are waiting for you in the main room sweetie. Violet should be there soon too.”

Peter’s brow furrowed. “Is everything okay?”

Tony smiled, reaching out to cup his Omega’s cheek, silently growling in victory as Peter leaned into his touch. “Just handling some things we’ve been putting off is all. Nothing you need to worry your beautiful head about. Okay?”

“Okay,” Peter conceded, smiling back at the Alpha.

Peter’s smile grew when Tony came in for a kiss. Instead of placing one on his lips, he kissed Peter’s forehead, and it felt so much intimate that way. Tony sniffed Peter’s hair, growling in pleasure at the scent, before reluctantly pulling away. “You’re perfect. You know that? Absolutely perfect.”

Peter just blushed.

Tony took him by the hand, murmuring so many more sweet words to him as he escorted the bashful Omega down the cold stone hallways of the castle. Took him all the way to the main room where everyone, apart from Violet and Pietro was waiting for them. Rhodey quickly informed them that Loki had just left to grab Pietro, and Natasha was apparently bringing Violet in a few minutes. Once there Tony kissed Peter’s hand, wished him a wonderful day, and then quickly departed with soft, dusky looks over his shoulder.

Peter smiled once more, and then turned to face the room, heading towards Wanda who held her arms out to him and enveloped him in one of her warm, almost motherly hugs. It made him feel soft, and safe. So safe. Maybe things really aren’t that bad here. Maybe The Avengers are better than what he originally thought? Maybe Tony’s better than what Violet thought?

If he remembered what really happened between him and Tony, he wouldn’t be thinking that.

Though Violet was the last to sleep out of the three Omegas, she was the first to wake before everyone else. She’s used to running on a few hours a sleep a week with little to no caffeine to aid her. This was a piece of cake. Maybe a little too much cake?

Violet has never woken up feeling so . . . so . . . good before. So rested and relaxed. So content and worry free. It was strange. Jarring considering the way Life tends to rain shit on her every five minutes. Throw disaster after disaster at her without giving her the chance to breathe or settle or think or anything really. Life sucks, and not in the way Pietro likes. It flat out sucked, draining all its inhabitants and participants dry until theirs nothing left but empty sacks filled with bones and little to show for it. It’s the way life is. At least for Violet.

This though, waking up like this after all the shit and revelations from the night before, this was . . . nice. Unexpected and something she knew without a doubt she should be rejecting with every fiber of her being, but still nice. So nice that it reminded her of waking up to her Dad cooking cinnamon roll apple pie on Saturday mornings. Drinking a glass of favorite his honey whiskey while reading the paper. It was his Saturday tradition. Survive the week, earn a whiskey breakfast. And dinner. Though he always had one at dinner.

She knew it wasn’t honey whiskey she was smelling though, and it surprisingly didn’t put her off. It calmed her even more. The mixture of their scents was still there. The whiskey and berries made a fitting combination, and Violet couldn’t stop herself from delving deeper into it’s wonderful embrace.

She hasn’t opened her eyes, but she knew where she was. She knows who’s she with, and how the pair are situated. They’re on the bed, the same bed she woke up with him and Natasha just last week on a sunny morning like this. Her shoes and socks were off. She can tell by how her feet were tangled in the fur of the blanket covering the pair. Her pants were off, replaced but she guessed were boxers based on the swish of the thin fabric and the scratchiness of the pelt. The shirts were still on, the weight of them felt the same as when Bucky put them on her just last night, or rather this morning? She couldn’t tell.

Her head rested on his chest and her right hand crumpled his shirt right next to her face. She could she feel the rise and fall as he breathed. Her left arm was tucked underneath her and was very much asleep thanks to its positioning. His metal arm was wrapped around her back, holding her firmly to him. She didn’t mind. She liked it there.

She shouldn’t though.

They stayed like that for a long time. She refused to open her eyes, refused to move a muscle that wasn’t meant to breath. She stayed there and basked in the moment for as long as she could.

She didn’t think. If she thought, she would get angry. Confused. Scared. She’d feel betrayed, rattled, and vulnerable. Way too vulnerable for her to handle. She’d think about last night. The moments with Bucky, the moments at the party, and then compare the two. She’d think about her friend’s actions over the past few weeks, starting with the news of Peter wanting Violet to meet Tony Stark all the way to this point now. She’d think over the last few years, think about all her friends, and loved ones, and compare them to the mind shattering hours she spent with Bucky that caused her to question everything.

She’d think and lose her fucking mind, so she didn’t. After everything that’s happened, all the blood, sweat, and tears she’s shed for everyone she’s fought for (friend and foe), didn’t she deserve this much? Deserve this one moment to bask in how good it feels and not think about anything at all? To just be content and allow herself to find comfort in this man before everything inevitably goes to shit again. Doesn’t she?

Right now, she decided she did.

She kept her mind blank and focused on breathing. Breathing deep breaths that kept her calm and stable. Breaths that brought in more of that comforting scent that settled her deeper into this wonderful embrace. Breathed and breathed until the thoughts she’d tried not to have weren’t so insistent on being heard. She breathed and she breathed.

Something she couldn’t do on her own without almost accidentally killing herself last night. Later on, she’d kick herself for that, maybe punch the wall and until her hand bleeds. So blind in her desperation she lost sight of what she was doing. Lost sight of who she really is. She’s not some dopey, helpless girl who’s nothing more than a damsel in distress. She’s a fighter who believes in fighting for what’s right, a stubborn bitch littered with traumatic experiences who doesn’t give up no matter how bad and shitty things get. She keeps fighting. She keeps going.

Most importantly, she doesn’t leave anyone behind. Period. She’s not going to opt out. She’s not going to leave anyone hanging when they so desperately need help. She’s not going to abandon people. She’s the one who stays, fights, and gets left behind. That’s who she is. That’s what she does. She’s made peace with that fact a long time ago and nothing’s going to change that.

Except maybe it already did.

 _No_ , she thought. _No more of that. Think later, breathe now. Breathe while you can_.

And Violet did.

About an hour or so Violet managed to do just that and would have continued to do so if the door to the room hadn’t opened. She opened her eyes abruptly, cursing herself for the action, then shifted slightly to see the intruder.

Natasha.

She possessed her normal sex appeal, oozing with each movement the woman made as she slowly sauntered into the room. However, her eyes didn’t have that same striking quality they normally held. Today they were hesitant, careful. She stared imploring at Violet while Violet stared back expectantly, refusing to speak. Natasha smirked, then looked at Bucky. Violet’s brow furrowed at the way the burnt sienna softened when she took in the state of the Alpha on the bed. Her salacious smirk shifting into a small, content smile.

“I was never able to give him that,” she gestured to Bucky.

Violet cocked an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Natasha grunted in amusement. “Have you looked at him yet?” Violet shook her head in response, which prompted Natasha to nod at the other Alpha. “You should. Go ahead. Take a look at your handiwork.”

Violet debated not doing that, leaning towards simply closing her eyes and pretending Natasha wasn’t there. Keeping in mind Natasha’s past antics and her own desire to bask in this feel good moment for as long as she could, Violet ended up conceding to the woman’s suggestion/soft command. She shifted slightly, moving her head up until her chin rest on his chest and gave her a good view of his face.

Her eyes widened at the sight.

She hasn’t noticed it before, or maybe she did and simply failed to acknowledge it, but Bucky always had these deep, furrowing lines on his face. Lines the shifted his expression into a dark, brooding look that made him so much more intense and lethal compared to the rest of the Avengers. Where Steve was stoic and Natasha was sexual, Bucky tended to look like he was three seconds away from killing anyone. All because those lines were there. Lines fueled by stress and years hoarding traumatic experiences Violet doubted he’s ever gone into detail about with anyone.

Lines that were completely gone.

He didn’t look like the lethal killer that struck fear in the hearts of the coldest, cruelest men to ever exist. He looked . . . he looked like the Golden boy Violet described just last night. The Golden Boy that grew into a Golden man making a career for himself, charming ladies and gents for fun while dragging along his best friend before turning in for the night. Coming home to a big house filled with all the art work Steve created, petting a cat or a dog on his way to his room, then settling down with his latest conquest or simply a smile before turning in for the night.

To put it simply, he looked human.

If her chin wasn’t resting on his chest, her jaw might have dropped.

“He’s never looked like that before,” Natasha softly, closer behind Violet than she was previously. Violet turned her head to look at Natasha better. She had moved to stand beside the bed, burnt sienna softer than Violet’s ever seen. “I’ve fucked him into exhaustion, held him close as he wrestled with the memories in his head, washed him clean after interrogation, even fought him when his nightmares forced him from his bed. I’ve tried and I’ve tried to get him to rest, and sometimes I’ve succeeded, but never like this. Never.” She reached out fingers hovering over his face. “Never have the shadows of his pain escaped him. Not once. Not ever. Until now.” She pulled away, the molten burnt sienna staring deep into Violet. “Until you.”

Violet didn’t know what to say to say, but thankfully she didn’t have too. Natasha sunk onto the bed, careful to not jostle the pair in the slightest. Eyes never leaving Violet’s. “I’m not good at this. I’m not even sure if I’m doing it right. It’s not going to stop me though.” She took Violet’s hand, the one that had a bit of Bucky’s shirt in a death hold. She squeezed it gently, leaned in slightly, then stated in a warm, smooth tone. A tone that made Natasha sound as honest as she was capable of being. “Thank you, Violet. Thank you for giving him this. For giving him last night.”

Again, Violet was speechless. Her mind scrambled with this newfound Natasha in front of her. Searched and hunted for something, anything to say back to Alpha in front of her. Shockingly, her response was, “why do you insist on dressing me up?”

Violet barely noticed before, but Natasha had started picking out clothes. Clothes Violet had no doubt were intended for her based on past experiences. Natasha chuckled at that, a light and weightless sound. “What’s so wrong with me wanting to dress you up?”

“Because you’re not the type that does something without reason. Reasons that stem from your . . . upbringing.” Violet countered quickly, happy to find something to talk about. Something easier to deal with than the sudden shift she encountered with the Alpha.

Her smile dimmed but didn’t fade away.

“I like to see the effect I leave behind,” Natasha started, straightening up slightly, still holding Violet’s hand. “It’s probably why my victims tend to be quite . . . memorable when bystanders happen upon them. That is, when I purposely leave them to be discovered. It’s one of the ways I prefer to send messages to enemy groups who think they can harm or foolishly overtake the Avengers. Or pompous and arrogant men in power who think they’re high enough in the food chain that they can’t be harmed by us. Or ambitious reporters who think one expose on us will make their entire career.” She stopped, eyes darkening with a victorious gleam. “My messages never failed to be heard. My warnings even less so.”

She squeezed Violet’s hand, who still hasn’t pulled away. “I know that doesn’t please you. I know it disgusts you to hear that from me, especially considering recent revelations,” her gaze darkened even more, this time with subdued rage, “but it’s what I do. It’s what I like. I’ll never get over watching the horror and fear dawn on a person’s face, someone who’s harmed or threatened to harm the people who I think of as friends, family even, and my lover.” She leaned in once more to Violet. “My Chosen.”

“I don’t care what happened last night,” Violet started vehemently, “nor do I care what position I’m in right now. I’m not anyone’s Chosen.”

Natasha exhaled, but her smile stayed intact, “I hope you’ll feel differently about that someday.”

The anger faded from Violet’s expression, shock replacing it once more. What’s going on here? Where’s all this coming from? Who is this person?

“The effect I leave on people doesn’t solely extend to the horror I give my enemies.” Natasha continued seamlessly. “It’s the care and effort I put into my loved ones. James in particular. When we first started being as we are, I would pick out everything James wore. Watched the way each item fit him and how he felt in each ensemble. Watched and learned from his reactions. Figured out the things he liked, or didn’t like, and addressed it to his wardrobe. To be honest, if I were interested in other personal things outside of fashion, I would have been much worse about it. Eventually he got me to stop, only allowing it during formal events and such.” She chuckled, glancing at his still sleeping form. “To boil it down, I simply like to watch and admire my handiwork.”

“Sounds about right,” Violet murmured, glancing at Bucky as well.

“Violet,” Natasha spoke softly, “I do thank you. Truly. Thank you for giving him this.”

Violet sighed, biting her lip. “He showed me the stars, it was the least I could do.”

Natasha smiled. “Was it everything you wanted it to be?”

Violet shook her head. “No, but it’s everything I could have hoped for.”

Natasha stared at her for a long moment. Watching her. Assessing her. Violet stared back, unnerved but not afraid. It was a long, tense moment between the two women. A moment Violet feared wouldn’t end. Then, just as suddenly as it started, it did end.

“I hate to ruin this,” she glanced at Bucky’s face once more, “but James and I have an emergency meeting we both need to attend and your friends are requesting you in the main room.” She glanced back at Violet. “Would you mind waking him up? After what happened between you too, he’ll want to see you first.”

“Why do I get the feeling you know a Hell of a lot more about last night than you’re letting on?” Violet question, staring the Alpha down.

The salacious, striking smirk was back. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” She nodded to Bucky once more, squeezing Violet’s hand before backing away. “Please?”

Violet growled silently, promising herself to get the better of that woman very, very soon. Then she turned to face Bucky, and gently began shaking his chest with the hand that hasn’t let go of his shirt since she woke up. The same hand Natasha had been holding.

“Bucky?” She spoke clearly, shaking his chest a bit more. “Bucky?”

He woke slowly, grumbling and growling as he did. Like a wolf being nudged awake from a peaceful slumber. After a few moments, his eyes opened. Crimson meeting her own, a small smile immediately forming. “Hey.”

Violet couldn’t help it. She didn’t know why, but suddenly she was smiling too. “Hey.”

“What are you doing up?” His human hand, the one Violet barely noticed tucked behind his head and used as an additional pillow, moved to cup her face. Thumb caressing her cheek. “You should be sleeping the day away.”

“We kind of already did.” Her brain cursed herself for leaning into it, but her chest felt warm. So warm. “Natasha came in, said you have a meeting to go to.”

His expression darkened, the lines appearing in no time at all, shifting his expression back into the brooding look. “Right. Meeting.”

“Мне жаль, моя любовь.,” Natasha spoke softly. “I’d let you stay that way forever if I could.”

“Я знаю,” Bucky whispered back, eyeing her with his molten gaze. “Я знаю.”

The Alphas stared at one another with increasingly heated gazes, and Violet instantly felt the need to leave. Things were getting too hot, too heavy, and _way_ too confusing for her to handle anymore. She ignored the desire to stay with Bucky and talk with him more, just as they did last night, and began to pull away.

He stopped her with a gentle squeeze just as she started to move. “Wait. Don’t go yet.”

She quickly searched her brain for an excuse. “You have a meeting to go to, and I’m really thirsty. Yeah. Thirsty. Alcohol tends to leave its drinker quite parched, especially in large quantities. Or whatever the right word is.” She continued to pull away, and instead of pulling her close, he moved with her.

“Wait,” he pleaded softly, “just . . .wait. One more moment. Please?”

Dammit will these two stop asking her please?! She’s not in her right mind! Leave her alone!

“What?” She asked once she was properly sitting up, rubbing thumping her sleeping arm as he straightened up next to her. He in turn grabbed her arm and started massaging it. Natasha moved to kneel on the bed behind Violet and started massaging her neck. At first Violet tried to bristle away, but then Bucky said in a clear tone, “It’s okay,” while giving Natasha a very pointed that clearly stated, _I’ll make sure it’s okay_. She calmed down after that and gave Bucky most of her attention while keeping mind of what Natasha was doing.

Along with steadfastly ignoring how nice her hands felt working through Violet’s stiff muscles. 

“Did you sleep alright?”

She nodded to his question, not feeling the need to verbally answer.

“Any bad dreams? Bad memories?” His tone darkened while his voice retained its protective lilt.

She shook her head, “if I did, you’d know.”

He nodded seriously, continuing to help get feeling back into her arm. “Will you tell me about it if you do?”

She watched him carefully, appraising him. He watched her back, a protective gleam to his naturally brooding expression. She already missed the Golden Man. “Yeah, I will.”

He gave her a small smile. “Thank you.”

He spent another minute or so help her get feeling into her arm while Natasha started kneading her upper spine. It felt really nice. So nice.

_I shouldn’t trust this._

“I’m going to go,” Violet spoke suddenly, aiming to move away from the two Alphas she unwittingly allowed to trap her.

Once again, Bucky stopped her. This time with Natasha’s help. “Hold on, just another minute.”

“Why?” Violet asked, voice gaining some steel.

“I shouldn’t ask this,” Bucky murmured, crimson eyes darkening once more.

“So don’t,” Violet shot back, moving out of their grasps before they could stop her again.

Thankfully, they didn’t.

She pushed off the pelt, quickly maneuvered around the Alphas and headed towards the door that led to the hallway.

“Violet,” Bucky spoke softly, gently.

Violet stopped, hand on the knob, turning back slightly to return his stare. “Yeah?”

“Will you go see the stars with me again tonight?” His voice was strange. It sounded almost . . . shy. Throwing Violet for a loop.

“May I come too?” Natasha cut in. “I promise not to get too handsy.”

Violet glared at her for that comment, but otherwise kept her eyes on Bucky.

“I’ll think about it,” she finally answered after a long moment.

Bucky nodded solemnly. “Thank you. Truly.”

She knew he meant for more than just her consideration.

“You too,” she responded in an equally solemn tone.

Then she pulled open the door and exited through the hallway and headed towards the main room. All the while berating herself for what all just happened and struggling not to drown in the thoughts she earlier kept at bay.

 _I’m sorry, my love_ = Мне жаль, моя любовь.

 _I know_ = Я знаю

Around 2:45 all Omegas finally made it to the Main Room. Wanda and Jarvis cuddled on the couch, Loki stood near the fireplace fidgeting with his clothes, and Rhodey leaned against the pool table near the windows. Peter sat on the edge of the opposite couch from Wanda and Jarvis, both of whom smiled fondly at Peter while sending him looks of what Peter thought to be pity towards him. Pietro paced back and forth between couches and the bar, unable to stand or sit still. Something that’s true to his character. He’s always antsy, always itching to do something, anything. Apart from that, everything seemed relatively calm.

Then Violet came barging in like a bat out of hell. Charging behind the bar counter to grab a glass, and then shockingly filling it with water despite the place she was getting it from. Along with the mood she was currently displaying. Then she gingerly hopped onto the counter, and everyone knew shit was about to go down.

“Alright shitheads,” Violet murmured around her glass of water, settling down on the bar counter as she crossed her legs, pointing a finger at Peter and Pietro. “What did _you_ guys do last night?”

A moment of silence.

“Steve and I fucked,” Pietro shrugged nonchalantly, though his silvery eyes were very clearly worried of Violet’s reaction.

“Pietro,” Wanda gasped from the couch, staring in shock. Jarvis comforted her with a soothing hand.

“I’m sorry, but that man is beautiful, gorgeous, and has the prettiest cock I’ve ever–”

Violet held up a hand, “Okay, we get it. We don’t need all the details. Your libido got the better of you. End of story.” She shifted her focus to Peter. “What did you do?”

“W-w-what?” Peter stuttered, looking this way and that, very clearly scared of Violet’s stern gaze.

She tried to soften it in response. “Dude, I can see the bruises on your neck and face from here.”

His brown doe eyes landed on her, big and fearful. “You do?”

She nodded. “What happened last night?” She asked in a softer, more comforting tone.

“I,” he started, “I don’t remember much from last night, but I do remember this,” he took a moment to breathe before exhaling sharply, nervously looking around at the inhabitants of the room before bravely stating, “I asked Tony to tie me up. We didn’t do anything other than that, but I did ask him for that. I . . . I’m really sorry.”

“Was it consensual?” Violet asked with a raised eyebrow.

Peter gave her a confused stare before nodding vigorously. “Yes.”

“Were both of you willing participants?”

“Yes.”

“Are you experiencing any doubts or regrets about what happened, or what could have happened last night?”

“No,” Peter stated firmly, “not at all. I mean, I’m worried how you’ll react, but–”

“My reaction doesn’t matter right now,” she gently interrupted. “What matters is whether you’re good and completely okay with what occurred between you and Tony. All of us were drunk off our asses so automatically everything is dubious at best where consent is concerned. So, again, are you good with what happened last night?”

Once again, Peter nodded. This time with a smile. “Yes.”

Violet took a breath, took a drink from her water. “Then okay.”

Everyone’s eyes popped wide open. Pietro was the only one to speak up. “That’s it?! Okay?”

Violet shrugged, “I made out with Bucky and let him scent me. I’m in no position to judge anyone on their choices while being superiorly drunk from last night. So yeah, okay.”

Now everyone’s jaws dropped. Again, Pietro was the first to speak. “You made out with the Winter Soldier?!”

“Uh huh,” Violet took another drink from her water.

“Oh my God,” Peter stood to his, instantly moving towards Violet in haste. “Are you okay? Did he force you?”

“I’m fine Peter,” Violet winked, “and he didn’t force me. He was actually really respectful about it.”

“Was it good?” Pietro moved from his seat, heat replacing the worry in his silvery eyes.

“I don’t know,” Violet looked at him sharply. “Why don’t you kiss him and find out since you’re so curious?”

He pursed his lips, “I’ll have to think to about it.”

“Go for it,” she raised her glass in mockful agreement.

They didn’t speak for a minute or so, and the rest of the room stayed silent with them.

“What happened to us?” Peter asked softly, staring at imploringly at his two friends. “What did we do?”

“We got drunk, went our own ways for reasons none of us want to talk about, except maybe Pietro,” Violet nodded to the taller Omega man. He wiggled his eyebrows flirtatiously in response. “And then the asshole Alphas took advantage of our inebriated states, left us to deal with not only our hangover, but also the backlash of our unfortunate decisions alone and slightly divided. Yippee.”

“So,” Peter fidgeted next to Violet, “what should we do?”

Violet shrugged, “Get out. Somehow, someway, just get out of this place and run away before we’re all officially Stockholmed and too far gone to care anymore.” She polished off her water, then placed it next to her on the counter. “The real question is how? How do we get away? How do we get out of here?”

Again, no one spoke. Nothing but silence. Empty, mind numbing silence.

Then Loki stood up.

“Well, I believe I have a solution.”

Violet cocked an eyebrow, “I doubt it involves us escaping and heading back home.”

He grinned, laughing mischievously. “Quite right. However, it does involve leaving the castle if you are up for it?”

Violet rolled her eyes, “sure. Why not? What are we doing? If not staying at the castle and feeling our sanity slowly drain away, what will we be doing? Where are we going to go?”

Loki stepped forward, back straightening until he was at his full, princely height. “Why Oslo, of course.”

(getting dressed ;D)

(watching a certain someone get dressed)

(not sure if I used this before, but it's fitting so I'm using it again lol)

(Checking on Violet to make sure she's okay)

(Violet conflicted)

(And finally, a little preview for the planned next chapter :D)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys want to know what REALLY happened with Peter and let me know, shoot me a comment and let me know because I might write a chapter about it. 
> 
> Otherwise. 
> 
> Next planned chapter takes Violet, the crew, and The Avengers to Oslo, Norway. Who could they run into? What effect will it have on Violet, Peter, and Pietro? What was the mysterious meeting about? Stay tuned and find out ;).
> 
> Thank you all again for reading! I appreciate you so much!!! :D :D :D


	35. Trust In Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What really happened between Tony and Peter.
> 
> Song inspiration. 
> 
> "Trust in Me", Jonathan Young version (totes awesome!).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. 
> 
> I'm so, so sorry. 
> 
> Dub Con leading into Non Con. If you're easily triggered, please be wary of this chapter. I'll put in a rough explanation at the end so that you don't have to read if you don't want to. 
> 
> Again, I'm super sorry. 
> 
> I really hated doing this to Peter.
> 
> I suck.
> 
> On a happier note, I hope you guys are doing great and staying safe out there! Best of luck! I would say enjoy, but this chapter isn't really meant to be enjoyed. All the same, take care everyone.

Chapter 34

Trust In Me

_Peter_

If it’s not clear by now, then let it be known that Peter Parker is not Violet Mason. He’s not well versed in dealing with deception and manipulation as she is. He doesn’t look over his shoulder every few seconds searching for threats or people in need like her. He doesn’t see the world as she does. He doesn’t really see the world, only what he’s exposed too. He tinkers with things in the University lab and expands on theoretical premises with his advisor Dr. Banner. He studies for his exams, he spends time with his friends, and he makes time for his surrogate sister no matter the occasion. He walks the same path, performs the same routines, and does roughly the same thing every day. Though his mind constantly pushes the boundaries with his projects, Peter Parker lives his life in a bubble. A soft, comforting, and impenetrable bubble that keeps him safe, yet leaves him extremely vulnerable.

Especially now.

Peter isn’t blind to his naivety. He knows there’s things and people in this world that seem good but would harm without a second thought. He knows this, he’s aware of it, but when the time comes for him to recognize it, all that knowledge goes right out the window. Not because he’s dumb, he’s technically a genius considering his IQ scores, but he lives in a bubble. Living in a bubble doesn’t prepare people for dealing with nefarious and dangerous situations that could lead to prison, the hospital, or an early grave. Spending hours drinking with people he didn’t really know doesn’t help either.

As much as it hurts to admit, Peter is not equipped to deal with someone who is well versed in manipulation. He can be a fighter and stand up for himself, evidenced by the steel he displayed against Betty Banner, but that was an entirely different situation. Betty was arrogant and entitled, unbothered to hide her true colors to the young Omega, and she insulted his sister. No one insults Violet when he’s around. He can be strong, he has been, but everything with Betty was nothing compared to what he’s walking into.

He set up a contract with Tony, something to protect him from Tony’s ruts and unwanted advances. A contract that essentially disintegrated when Brea showed up and took out three of the Avengers. The two powerhouses and the most lethal member of the group. Took them out and then started babbling about Violet and the mysterious Wade and other stuff that sent Peter for a complete loop. Sent him into an almost catatonic state before landing right in Tony’s arms. In his warm, lustful embrace.

In Peter’s drunken stupor, he couldn’t push away the desire to feel it again. He liked it, he wanted more of it. He didn’t know why, and part of him didn’t want to know. He just wanted, and with Violet’s blessing, he was going to get more of it.

More than he could probably handle.

Drunkenly stumbling through the halls, hands running along the stones to keep himself somewhat steady and upright, Peter eventually made it to Tony’s room. Their room. He pushed open the door, grinning and laughing at the man’s instantaneous reaction.

Tony was sitting on the edge of the bed with his Stark Pad nestled in his lap and glass of what Peter knew to be scotch in the other. He was wearing his black track pants and Black Sabbath t-shirt with a grey long sleeved shirt underneath it. The Alpha was scratching his beard in what might have been frustration until Peter accidentally slammed the door open. Tony yelped, jumping to his feet in sheer fright. Scotch spilling on the bed, Stark Pad falling to the floor, and sheer panic filling Tony’s eyes.

“Oh! I’m sorry!” Peter quickly apologized, holding his hands up in what he hoped to be a gentle manner. “I didn’t mean to kick the door open. Sorry for scaring you.”

“Peter?” Tony asked softly, dark eyes glancing repeatedly between Peter and the open doorway. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Peter smiled, leaning against the threshold of the entryway. “Violet said I could come hang out with you if I wanted, so I’m here. I heard you were fixing a bug problem and I want to help.” His head lolled to the side, leaning against the cold stone. “Would you like some help? I got a big brain and I know how to use it.”

Tony looked at him in shock, glancing once more at the open door before laughing, shaking his head. “FRIDAY, is this for real?”

“Yes Boss, Violet gave her permission for Peter to be here with you for the remainder of the evening.” FRIDAY replied promptly, easing some of the surprise in the Alpha’s expression. “Ms. Romanoff has reported that Sgt. Barnes will detain Violet during this time as well.”

“Detain?” Peter mumbled, raising his head slightly to look at the Stark Pad. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing bad sweetie,” Tony stated smoothly, the surprise gone and replaced with the charming confidence that made Peter feel weak in the knees. Weaker with how drunk he is. He let out a little moan at the change, so far gone he couldn’t bring himself to feel ashamed about it. Tony’s eyes grew darker, lips curving up. “Oh, is it gonna be like that?”

“Like what?” Peter shrugged, body moving so his spine leaned against the stone. “I’m just here to help.”

“Well,” Tony hummed, cocking his head to the side, thumb brushing his bottom. “I got the bug problem mostly handled, but if you’re up for it, there’s something else you can help me with.”

Peter’s eyes went wide, smile widening with excitement. “Of course! What is it?”

Tony’s smile also grew, only it wasn’t in excitement. “Well, here I was minding my own business. Respecting your sister’s commands and privacy, and here you show up. Rosy cheeked, languid and relaxed, that big smile on your face that can make anyone fall to their knees and worship you. Well, it’s caused a little problem for me. A problem only you can fix.”

Peter’s smile fell. “I don’t want to cause problems.”

Tony laughed, “it’s okay sweetie. With problems come solutions, right?”

Peter nodded vigorously. “Yeah,” he responded in a shy tone.

“Yeah,” Tony repeated in a significantly stronger, more conclusive tone. “And I know just the solution for it, but I’ll need your help to do it.”

“Of course,” Peter pushed away from the threshold, stumbling over to Tony with wide eyes. “Anything.”

“Anything?” Tony asked, reaching to grab Peter’s hand.

“Anything,” Peter took his hand, moving in close to the Alpha. The motor oil, Iron, Scotch, and smoke that made up Tony’s scent lulled Peter like a fish with a reel. The Alpha hummed once more, stepping into Peter’s personal space, breathing in the Omega’s scent just as Peter was doing to the Alpha’s. Breathing each other in and getting lost along the way. Tony pulled Peter’s hand lower, and lower, and then -

Peter gasped, eyes bulging, looking down at what his hand was touching. Tony held onto Peter’s wrist, a lustful smile adorning his handsome face. Peter breathed deep, so deep, blinking repeatedly until his mind settled on what he was touching, and that he was in fact touching it.

Tony’s bulge through his track pants.

Peter backed away, shaking his head from side to side in a panic. “I’m s-sorry. I-I can’t. I’m n-not r-ready for that. I’m sorry.”

“Shh shh,” Tony shushed gently, releasing Peter’s wrist as he took Peter’s face in his hands. Pressing his forehead against Peter’s. “It’s okay sweetie. It’s okay. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I’ve never done that,” Peter whimpered, staring up at Tony with wide eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve nothing to apologize for,” Tony chuckled softly. “And I like that you haven’t. It’s pretty hot.”

“I’m not ready for that,” Peter pleaded, lips trembling. “Please Tony, I’m not ready.”

“It’s okay,” he kissed his nose, smile turning warm and understanding. “You will be. Not right now of course, but another time. I can wait. It’s okay.”

Peter hiccupped, breath fast and quick. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Tony kissed his cheek.

“But I-I caused a problem.”

“And there’s more than one way for you to fix it,” Tony moved his lips to Peter’s ear, “ways that are less invasive and require very little of you.”

“What do you mean?” Peter whispered, leaning into Tony’s touch.

“I mean what I say,” hot breath coated Peter’s ear, erasing his panic and filling him with calm bliss. “And I say what I mean.”

Peter’s eyes began to droop. “It’s-It’s hot in here.”

“I know,” Tony smirked, pulling Peter closer to him. “I can’t stand the cold, so I make sure it’s warm and toasty wherever I go.”

“I like it warm too,” Peter whispered, losing himself in Tony’s scent, in his solid and enrapturing embrace.

“Then why don’t you go and close the door, that way we can keep it as hot as we want.” His lips moved to Peter’s temple, the flash of tongue against Peter’s skin driving him absolutely wild.

“Okay,” Peter nodded, reluctantly pulling away from the seductive Alpha.

He stumbled back to the doorway, drunk from the party, high off Tony’s pheromones, and completely enamored by the warm feeling rising in his lower abdomen. It was foreign, a strange sensation he’s only ever experienced during heats. He wasn’t prepared for it, but he wasn’t pulling away from it either. No, he was moving towards. Basking in it.

Not a moment did he spare to think about why he shouldn’t be basking in it, why he should have closed the door on his way out. He didn’t think about what had just occurred, or the implications of what Tony had planned. He didn’t think about anything. He simply moved forward, completely unaware that Tony was following him like a hungry predator, and pulled the door shut.

He turned around only to press his back against the door. Tony stood tall and proud, wearing a wicked expression, and displaying dark, lustful eyes. One hand reached down to grab Peter’s hand once more, the other reached up above Peter’s head. Peter’s gaze followed it. There was a lock, an old-fashioned sliding one Peter failed to notice before. Tony pulled it, the sharp and grating sound hurting Peter’s ears. The sharp clang hurt even worse.

Then it dawned on him.

He was locked in here with Tony. There was nowhere for him to go yet he wasn’t scared by it. Instead, he suddenly became overwhelmingly turned on. Turned on and completely gone.

Tony started pulling his hand. “C’mon sweetie. Let's start fixing this problem.”

Peter went willingly, mouth hanging open in pure ecstasy.

Together they walked back into the middle of the room. It was the more modern setup out of all the other rooms Peter had seen. There was a tv and gaming set completely hooked up and operational. Heaters going on full blast towards the bed. A king size bed that was covered with a red comforter and gold pillows. A charging station for the Stark Pad and phone to the right of it. A coffee table littered with all sorts of miscellaneous items Peter didn’t bother to identify. At the far corner of the room were luggage bags, all of it containing Tony’s belongings along with all the clothes Tony bought for Peter shortly after he ‘moved in’ to the tower. They were situated in front of the closet, which was open and contained something Peter didn’t expect.

A giant, bleak leather box.

Peter had just cocked his head at that when Tony grabbed his chin, and gently turned it to face him once more.

“Sweetie,” Tony hummed, voice low and doing all sorts of things to Peter. “How far do you think you can go tonight?”

Peter hesitated, pondering the question. “I don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” Tony kissed his nose, earning a shy giggle from Peter. “We’ll just do one step at a time. Alright?”

“That-that sounds good,” Peter nodded vigorously, eyeing Tony’s lips.

Lips that curved with Peter’s inspection. “Let’s start with something easy then. How do you feel about me tying you up-”

“Yes,” Peter interrupted, “yes please.”

“Alright,” Tony chuckled, thumb brushing over Peter’s lips. “If we’re going to do that, it needs to be like it was last time. Remember?”

Peter’s forehead wrinkled. “But I’m not in heat.”

“You’re right,” Tony agreed, “and you’re also wearing too many clothes.”

If Peter were sober, he would have felt fear. Unfortunately, Peter is not sober. He’s drunk. Drunk Peter felt nothing but a zing a desperate arousal roll through him. A tiny whimper of need escaping him.

“Yes sweetie,” Tony purred, burying his face in Peter’s curls. “Take them off for me.”

Though aroused, Peter hesitated. “Can I keep my underwear on?”

“You may,” Tony hummed, “if you promise to do one thing for me.”

“What is it?”

A hand reached up behind Peter, grabbed his hair, and pulled harshly. A shocked moan escaped Peter. Tony moved down, nose skimming along Peter’s exposed neck. “Call me Master.”

Peter wasn’t thinking. He lost his ability to think. “Yes . . . Master.”

Tony made a pleased sound. “Good pet.” He released his hair. “Now strip for me. Give me a show.”

And Peter . . . tried too. He’s not the most flexible, sexy, or lithe. He’s awkward, clumsy, and very much befitting of the nerdy stereotype. On top of all that, he’s incredibly drunk, and more than once Tony had to reach out and steady the Omega to keep him from falling flat on his face. Despite all of that, Tony absolutely loved it. His bulge grew increasingly with each item Peter struggled to take off. The sweater was the hardest, the shirts beneath it not so bad, the sweats were hilarious but surprisingly easy, and then all Peter had on was the white undershirt and his blue briefs.

Briefs that were absolutely soaked.

“Seems like someone’s having a good time.” Tony remarked in a warm voice, eyeing the Omega with a lustful gaze.

Peter cupped his hands in front of his underwear, blushing and pouting. “I can’t help it.”

“Why can’t you help it?”

“Because you. . .” Peter looked at the floor. Shoulders hunching in.

Tony’s smile grew. “Cause I what sweetie? What do I do?”

Peter didn’t answer, blush turning a darker shade.

Tony moved back in, grabbing his chin, forcing him to look at Tony. “Answer me pet.”

“You-” Peter stuttered, “you turn me on.’

“Who turns you on?”

“Y-You.”

Tony leaned in to growl in his ear, “and who am I?”

“T-Tony?” Peter answered with a whimper. 

“Try again,” tongue flicking out to lick his ear. “Remember your promise.”

“Master!” Peter blurted. “Master. I’m sorry Master. I didn’t mean to forget.”

Tony chuckled. “It’s okay sweetie. I’ve got no problem reminding you. That’s what a good Master does.” He pulled away, dark eyes burning into Peter. “Am I a good Master?”

“Yes Master,” Peter answered immediately, “good. So good.”

“Is that so?” Tony cocked an eyebrow, “then why is your shirt still on?”

“I-” Peter tried hunching in once more, “I don’t know.”

“So shy,” Tony hummed, “I’m your Master, Peter. You have no reason to be shy with me. I’ll take care of you. Make you feel things you’ve never felt before. Show you a world you never thought was possible. Keeping you safe all the while.”

“You’ll-” Peter started, whimpering slightly with his increasing arousal. “You’ll keep me?”

Tony hesitated, surprise crossing those dark eyes. “You want me to keep you?”

Peter nodded, moving in closer to Tony. “Yes Master, please keep me.”

Tony’s gaze flickered between Peter’s wide, desperate eyes. His smile from dark and nefarious to warm and happy. “Yes sweetie. Of course, I’ll keep you. You never need to worry about that. Never.”

“You promise?”

“I promise,” Tony kissed Peter’s temple. “I promise.”

Peter sighed suddenly, and then gently pulled away. Tony almost pulled back, protesting strongly to Peter’s reluctance, but then Peter grabbed the bottom hem of his undershirt and gently pulled it up. Over his head. In his hand. Now on the ground.

Tony drooled over Peter’s bare chest. So soft and smooth, so structured and fit. Tony couldn’t wait to mark it up.

“Good pet,” Tony murmured, running his hands up and down the Omega’s milky skin.

“Master?” Peter asked in a small voice.

“Yes pet?”

“Can I,” he paused, taking a deep breath, “can I change my underwear?”

Tony’s thumb brushed Peter’s nipple. “In a minute Pet, there’s a few things I want to do first.”

“Like what, Master?”

Tony grinned, “start tying you up of course.”

Peter shivered with arousal, flinching as Tony gentle pinched his right nipple.

“Go kneel on the bed,” Tony ordered in a firm tone, dropping his hands and walking past the young Omega.

Peter immediately followed Tony’s order, and from there things quickly became interesting. Or rather, overwhelming and a little scary.

Tony came back with the rope in seconds. It was the type Peter preferred. Soft to the touch yet firm enough to hold him down and prevent him from struggling. It was a different color than Peter was used to though. The rope is normally black, but this time it was a dark red. The same dark red that matched Tony’s comforter. Tony had Peter put his hands behind his back, hands grabbing the opposite elbow while his forearms lay on top of one another. He tied loops around each appendage, trapping them together behind Peter’s back, and then moving on to tying the rope around his chest, strapping his arms tighter in the process. Making him incapable of defending himself. Peter didn’t take note of what was happening, choosing to lose himself in the wonderful and comforting sensation of being bound.

Within minutes Tony was done. He put a hand on Peter’s shoulders, settling his body behind the thoroughly aroused Omega. Peter moaned at the contact, leaning back so that Tony would take some of his weight. The Alpha chuckled once more, hands moving up and down Peter’s torso with joy.

“You look so beautiful like this pet,” he kissed Peter’s hair, “so beautiful. All tied up and wanting me so deeply. It’s a good look on you. Would you like to see what else you’d look good in?”

Peter nodded, eager for what’s next.

Tony chuckled again and moved slightly to the left. Peter’s eyes were closed, so he couldn’t see what Tony grabbed until it was too late. “Open your mouth, pet.”

Peter did without a thought, and immediately felt a smooth, round intrusion push past his teeth, settle on his tongue, and lodge itself firmly in his mouth. His eyes popped open, and only when he felt the straps begin to tighten behind his head did he realize what it was. A ball gag. His breath picked up, tongue pushing at the ball, body struggling as Tony fastened the straps.

“Shh shh, it’s okay pet. It’s okay. Calm down. I’m right here. It’s alright. I won’t do anything I know you can’t handle. One step at a time. Remember? Just one step at a time.” Tony whispered assurances in Peter’s ear, and with each assurance he murmured, Peter’s breathing began to slow. His racing heart slowly returning to its original pace. He whined behind the gag, trying to turn his head to look at Tony.

But Tony pulled away once more, gripping the back of Peter’s neck in a firm grasp. “Alright pet, this next part is going to feel invasive, but I promise it’s nothing bad. Nothing you can’t handle.”

Peter mewled, struggling to spot Tony, and failing to do so.

“It’s okay pet, let me guide you forward,” he started pushing Peter down. “Just lay out on the bed.”

And Peter did. A bit awkward, Peter laid out on the bed. Heart picking up once more at his current position. Then he felt hands on the back of his legs. Hands that rubbed and soothed the backs of his thighs. Hands that suddenly pushed them apart. He let out another wine, instinctually closing them back together only to be stopped by what he thought were Tony’s knees. Knees that forced his legs to stay apart. He cried in shock, in fear, suddenly becoming acutely aware of how much of a disadvantage he was in as he tried to free his hands behind his back.

Then those hands grabbed him by the hips and pulled them up. Pulled his body into a presenting position. Peter’s fear skyrocketed. Thoughts suddenly burst through his lust filled mind. He didn’t want to do this. He’s not ready. He doesn’t want to be mated yet. There’s so much he wants to before he settles into being an Alpha’s Omega. He’s not ready yet.

But just as those thoughts appeared, and his struggles reached an all-time high, Tony pulled down Peter’s underwear, and grabbed hold of his dick. Pumping it and fondling it with an expertise Peter never knew existed. Normally that would make someone overcome with panic and shock. Peter didn’t react that way. Though scared and reluctant, Peter was still very much turned on, and when Tony started kissing his back and caressing his ass, Peter melted with the pleasure the Alpha gave him.

“There we go,” Tony approved, pace picking up around Peter’s dick. “That’s it pet, trust your Master. Trust in me.”

And Peter did. Unsure and wary, Peter trusted Tony. Trusted the Alpha who put him in this position, tied him up and gagged him, and now intended to do more to him. Out of Peter’s eyeline, Tony reached over to the coffee table to grab the next item he intended to use on the Omega. With all the slick seeping out of Peter, he wouldn’t need any lube to insert this wonderful toy.

“Listen to me Pet. I’m going to put something in you. It’s like that knotted dildo I used on you when you were in heat. Remember? It’s a bit smaller and easier to maneuver, but it’s just a toy. Not anything else. Just breathe with me, okay? Everything’s alright. Everything’s good.” Tony continued to assure him, watching Peter stiffen and relax with his words.

Tony pumped Peter a few more times, making sure Peter was pliant and ready before moving on, and then he grabbed hold of Peter’s delectable ass cheeks, and spread them apart. Tony growled at the hole, ignoring the sharp mewl from the Omega as a result. Never has he seen a more perfect hole. So cute, so small, so untouched.

“So perfect,” Tony murmured reverently.

Then he got to work.

Peter struggled around the intrusion. Desperately trying to hold onto Tony’s words, but his fear spiked at the unknown object Tony was deliciously pushing into him. It felt good. So, so good, but it didn’t stop the panic from quickening his heart. Was it just a toy, or was it something else? Something he wasn’t ready for.

The toy, or whatever it was, wasn’t excessively big. It was long enough to settle firmly past the hilt of his hole and a few more inches inside of him, brushing something that made Peter jerk with pleasure. For a solid moment he feared Tony had lied, he lied, and the object was actually ‘him’, but once the toy stopped moving, Tony whipped across the bed to settle in beside Peter. The toy still firmly lodged inside of Peter.

“Almost done, Pet. You’re being so good. Just keep going. Keep breathing.” His breath was hot against Peter’s skin, sending the Omega shivering with pleasure. “Just a few more things, and you’re set. Almost there.”

There was a strange sensation on Peter’s cock. Something cold, hard, and nothing like Tony’s hand at all. This time Peter didn’t worry about it. He’s gone this far; he can go farther. Right? Tony said he wouldn’t do anything Peter couldn’t handle. He’s not getting mated or anything like that, so he can handle this. He can.

Can’t he.

The strange object suddenly tightened around Peter’s dick, leaving him gasping with pain and pleasure. Tony smiled, leaning into kiss Peter’s shoulder. “So perfect. Such a perfect pet.”

Peter moaned, hips moving to hump Tony’s hands. Tony chuckle, tightening the object encasing Peter’s dick once more, leaving him a whimpering mess before pulling away. “So good. So, fucking good.”

Peter was along for a few seconds, leaving him to get used to the strange sensations from the objects Tony used on him. The one on his dick felt the most . . . obscene. If Peter had to guess, he’d wager the material it was made of was metal or something resembling the substance. The one in his ass felt heavy, heavier than Peter originally anticipated. He wondered what it could be.

A sharp slap on his ass broke him from his reverie with a loud yelp, followed by a jovial chuckle behind him. “Almost done, so close. Just keep breathing. Keep breathing my sweet, sweet pet. Keep breathing.” He pulled Peter up by his hair, then wrapped a cloth around Peter’s eyes, blinding him.

Peter had no time to register what just happened when Tony suddenly swooped him up in his arms and carried him across the room. The sensations from the foreign objects grew, and Peter found they weren’t totally terrible, though the one on his dick was somehow getting tighter. Tony set him carefully on his feet before gently pushing him to his knees. Peter cocked his head. The heaters in the room were going full blast, but the floor was still cold. Or at least it should be. This didn’t feel cold though. Or rough. It felt smooth. It felt like cushioned leather, like on a couch only with far less padding. What’s going on? Where did Tony put him?

“Alright Pet, it’s done.” Tony spoke in a deep, guttural tone. A cool, leather strap of some sort circled Peter’s throat. A sharp ‘click’ sounding at the back of his neck. A cool sensation dangled and jingled beneath his chin. Peter grunted in confusion.

Then Tony lifted the blindfold.

Peter blinked, adjusting to the new light, and freaked out.

First thing he noticed was Tony standing tall and proud, looking down at him with such warmth and pride Peter wanted to melt. Then he saw the black walls surrounding him. Containing him. His eyes bulged, breathing coming and going so fast he hiccupped from the abrupt speed. He was in the box, the box he saw standing only in the closet. Tony put him here, he put him in the box. He glanced back at Tony, then made the mistake of looking down. What he saw made him cry, cry out in fear, and sheer fucking panic.

Tony put his dick in a cock cage.

Peter whimpered, crying and pleading wordlessly to Tony. The Alpha just smiled. “You asked me to keep you Peter.” He reached down to grab the cold, dangling object at the base of Peter’s throat he realized with sudden shock that it was a tag. A dog tag. “How else do I keep my pets?” Peter cried at that, struggling with his bonds once more. Tony sighed, a happy smile on his face. “Don’t worry, you won’t remember any of this.”

Tony suddenly pulled Peter’s collar, pulling him close and in Tony’s face. The dark gaze turned Alpha red. Peter quivered beneath the intensity. Completely and utterly terrified.

For the first time since he came to Tony’s room, he wished Violet were here. She’d stop this. She’d save him. Strike the Alpha down and take him away somewhere safe. Wrap him in her warm and safe embrace. An embrace that didn’t make weak and sweat behind the knees, but one he would always find soft, and assuring comfort in. She was his safe place. She’d keep him safe.

And he left that safe place to walk right in the lion’s den.

“ **Peter** ,” Tony started, his already deep and guttural tone somehow submerging into the deeper, and scarier Alpha tone. The tone that instantly quieted Peter and grasped his entire attention. “ **When you think back on tonight, all you’ll remember is being tied up and gagged on my bed. You’ll remember me petting you, speaking kind words to you, before falling into a deep and dreamless sleep. When you feel pain, or when you see the bruises, they’ll be because of the rope and the gag. You won’t feel any pain in your ass, or on your cock. Only where the rope and the gag touched you. There was no fear, no struggles, just bliss. Just the submission you’ll give me, and the good pet you’ll be for me. Understand**?”

Peter, all fear and resistance melting away, nodded dutifully. Tony smiled, leaning down to kiss Peter’s forehead, before releasing the Omega and standing back up. Peter watched with wide eyes, no longer frightened, as Tony suddenly displayed a remote. He cocked his head as Tony winked, mischievous and salacious. He pressed a button, and then there was nothing but pleasure. Wonderful vibrations rolling through his ass, through the cage. Peter’s eyes drooped, moans escaping him as his hips took on a mind of their own and started humping the empty air.

“That’s it pet, that’s it. Keep going, be good for your Master.” Tony murmured, watching Peter quickly lose himself to the pleasure, to the Alpha command Tony placed on him. He reached back to grab hold of the top of the box and began to flip it over. He watched and watched the twitching and moaning Omega until he finally closed the lid on him and flipped the locking mechanism tight.

Then he wandered over to his bed, took a seat, and jacked off to the wonderfully muted moans from his darling locked and kept away in his box.

During this time, unbeknownst to the pair, Pietro and Steve just broke through the door to Steve’s bedroom, racing to strip each other’s clothes off and perform drunken, yet completely consensual, sexual activities that led them to wake up with a knot in Pietro’s ass. It was also at this time that Bucky clothed and carried Violet towards the spot outside of the castle, and then spent the rest of the night gazing at the stars and bonding with one another. Tony didn’t know, nor did he care. All he cared about was the wonderful Omega in his possession, and how good his muted moans made his dick feel.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

There was a sudden knocking at the door. Firm, sharp, and urgent knocking. Tony growled, sitting up and glaring at the door. “FRIDAY, tell whoever it is to go away.”

“It’s Jarvis boss, and I will not do that this time.”

Tony’s head jerked to stare at the Stark Pad, eyes filled with betrayal. “What?!”

“Open the door, and let him in.” FRIDAY stated in a definitive, almost threatening tone.

Tony’s eyes bulged, mouth to retort some witty comeback, but the knocking grew louder and increased its speed. He growled, tucking himself back into his pants, and charging towards the intruder. He had just pulled the latch to unlock the door when the door came bursting open, almost knocking Tony on his ass. “What the Hell?!”

Jarvis rushed in, his normally calm and polite demeanor completely absent. In its place was a surprising fury Tony never expected to see again. The only time the man looked this angry was when Tony told him what he went through during his captivity in the Middle East. He couldn’t help but wonder what brought forth this version of Jarvis once more.

“Jarvis? What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“You,” he pronounced in a harsh tone. “You are what’s wrong right now. You and your blatant disregard for people’s wellbeing. For your Chosen’s wellbeing and desires.”

“What are you talking about?” Tony barely got out when Jarvis displayed a folder. A manilla folder emboldened with ‘ _Peter and Tony Contracts’_.

Uh oh.

“Who do you think is in charge of ensuring you follow through with your contracts when Pepper is unavailable?” Jarvis asked in a clipped tone.

Tony’s heart dropped, raising his hands in defeat. “You are.”

“And as stated in this contract, who is in charge of punishment should you not follow through with the rules stated within it?”

Tony’s head drooped, “Peter and Violet.”

“One of which is bound and locked away in that box I presume?” Jarvis cut in cruelly, “which means I need to hunt down Violet and inform her of this grievous, and underhanded error on your part?”

Tony’s eyes bulged, “please no.”

“No,” Jarvis growled, “I won’t.”

Tony did a double take. “Wait, why?”

“Because Violet has been through enough, and I will not cause that girl anymore pain than is necessary. As such, someone needed to be informed. Someone who will handle this in Violet and Peter’s favorite.”

“Oh yeah? Who?” Tony taunted, but tremble in his tone dampened the snark.

“Me,” responded a cold, womanly voice. A voice that resembled a dagger, sharp and direct. A voice that sent ice down Tony’s spine. A voice made even the best of men piss themselves with fear. Oh no. God no.

Natasha rounded the corner, and green eyes burning with cold fury, and sent Tony stumbling back. “Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.”

“Nowhere to run,” Natasha growled, grabbing Tony by the throat, and trapping him against the wall. “Nowhere to hide.”

“I’m sorry.” Tony forced out. “I wasn’t thinking. When I saw him come in here, I didn’t think. I just went with it. I couldn’t help it.”

“My chosen could have died tonight,” Natasha growled, squeezing Tony’s throat. “I’m not interested in apologies. Only actions.”

Tony’s face paled. “What? Violet? What happened-”

“Let’s just say FRIDAY dutifully went the extra mile in watching Violet tonight, Clint and Rhodey were incredibly thorough with their camera placement, and that James was in the right place at the right time. Other than that, there’s nothing else you need to know.” She leaned in closer, those cold eyes burning daggers into Tony’s soul as Peter’s whimpers went haywire from the box. “Now here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to let him out, praise him and comfort him, do whatever it takes to make sure he’s okay and feels loved. Let him cum as much he needs, clean him up, and then put him to bed. Send the box outside and I will take it to be stored until he is ready and _wanting_ to use it. Once he’s resting comfortably, get back on that Stark Pad because you have homework to do.”

“Homework? For what?”

“Frank Castle is on his way here with Deadpool, the mysterious Wade Wilson Brea talked about nonstop just this morning. They’ll be here tomorrow, and with them comes more news about Violet and the unfortunate implications of her status as ‘Omega 13’. Hopefully, we’ll find out more about the mysterious ‘Project Insight’ and how they got into the tower in the first place.” She squeezed his throat tighter. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

“No,” he grated, struggling to breathe. “Not at all.”

She didn’t move. “If you pull this shit, hurt our Chosens like this again, you won’t have to worry about either of them shocking your dick off. Trust that I’ll rip it off and feed it to you. Sauteed and seasoned to perfection. Maybe chop it up and serve with a nice pappardelle, and your Grandmother’s famous sauce. Fine enough to serve Kings and Queens, except you’ll be the only one eating it. Understand?”

“Crystal,” Tony wheezed, quickly running out of air.

“Good,” Natasha released him, sending the Alpha to the floor. “Act quickly, that boy won’t take much longer even with a cage on his cock.”

Then just as quickly as she arrived, Natasha Romanoff brushed past Jarvis and back into the hallway. Tony stared wide eyed at her leave. Jarvis watched Tony pitifully.

“Do this again Tony, and I’ll help make the sauce.” Jarvis bristled with his rage. “We don’t do this to our Chosen’s. They make us human, make us whole. Give us a reason to be more than the monsters that haunt children’s dreams. We’re better than this, and they are the ones to remind us of that.” Jarvis glanced at the box, shaking his head with a disgusted look. “He’s good for you Tony, but only if you treat him as you do the things you create. He won’t leave like everyone else. He’s like Violet in this one aspect. He doesn’t leave. He stays. Now give him a reason too.”

With a huff, Jarvis turned and left the room.

Tony exhaled in shock, rubbing his throat with a wince, and pondering on where everything went wrong.

.

.

.

.

.

Then he did exactly as Natasha bid, and moved to release Peter from the box.

(Not exactly what happened but close enough)

(Close enough too)

(Watching Peter closely)

(Natasha handling Tony)

(Preview for the next chapter!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, for those that skipped the chapter, here's a rough explanation of what happened. 
> 
> Very drunk Peter stumbles into Tony's room and get seriously taken advantage to the point where he ends up tied up in a box and Tony's having the time of life. Thankfully, FRIDAY tattled on Tony which led Jarvis to come to the rescue and brings Natasha as backup. Natasha proceeds to set Tony right, order him to get Peter out of the box, and prepare to confront Frank Castle and Deadpool, who are both en route to Oslo, and then the castle. Nastaha then threatens to castrate Tony if he pulls this shit on Peter again. Jarvis chastises Tony for his nefarious ways before leaving with Natasha. Tony ponders where everything went wrong, and then gets Peter out of the box. 
> 
> Now, onwards to happier topics. Frank and Deadpool are coming! What exactly will they reveal to The Avengers? What does Loki have planned for Violet and the Omegas? Who will they encounter in Oslo? Will Bucky and Natasha get to watch the stars with Violet once more? Will Violet begin to bond even more with her kidnappers? What do you think will happen?
> 
> Also, just an opinion question here, do you guys want Violet to find out what really happened between Peter and Tony? Personally, I don't and I really hope the story doesn't take that direction. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I'm sorry for this chapter. I felt so icky writing it. I originally didn't plan the ending bit, but it suddenly came to me and I just jumped on it. If it feels super rushed, that's why. I appreciate you all so much! Thank you all again!
> 
> And as always, please leave me a comment and let me know what you think. I'm fully expecting to get put on blast for this XD. 
> 
> Take care!


	36. Getting Ready

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dressing up and briefly checking in with missing characters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baby chapter! 
> 
> Baby Chapter incoming! 
> 
> Rule of thumb for writers, avoid tv shows you haven't watched before when you're supposed to be writing your newest chapter. I got hooked on Prodigal Son and now I can't stop watching it XD. Sorry about the shortness and lack of stuff happening. All the same, I hope you guys enjoy!!!

Chapter 35

Getting Ready

_ Violet _

Violet hated leggings. Hated them. HATED them. They were the bane of her existence, the worst thing ever created in the history of clothes. High heels were a very close second, and the corset was merely a breath away at third. Leggings sucked. Completely and utterly sucked. Violet would rather traipse around naked and unashamed in front of all the Avengers while they increasingly got drunk and made grabby hands at her. That’s how much she hated them.

Three guesses on what Loki and Natasha picked out for her to wear to Oslo for the day. 

Apparently Bucky spilled the beans about her nearly freezing to death the previous night, particularly how she was barely a step above naked and drunk off her ass. As a result, Loki and Natasha made a very blatant and direct point to make sure Violet was wearing as many layers as possible, and conveniently hid all the liquor. The latter Violet was fine with. Alcohol was not her friend after her antics the previous night. In fact, Violet decided it was time to take a break from drinking and focus on other stuff. 

Stuff like ripping Pietro a new one for getting in bed with Steve when they were supposed to be finding a way out of this mess, not diving . . . however Pietro dived, even further into this mess. Stuff like checking in with Wanda and making sure she’s okay before also ripping her a new one while taking a look at her head to check for surgical scars because she’s either a severely naive friend or had a brain transplant. Violet really hoped it was the latter. Much easier to deal with in the grand scheme of things. Also stuff like ignoring Peter because if she looked more closely at his bruises she knows she’s going to flip her shit and dive headfirst out of the nearest window. Right after she beats Tony fucking Stark within an inch of his stupid, alpha life.

Yep, she’ll be drinking before the day’s out.

Fuck.

On the brightside, with all the layers she was forced to wear, it meant less of her body being accentuated or put on display. With all the aggressive and unwelcome advances (and that’s putting it mildly) from horny Alphas over the years, it was a big deal to ensure that she was covered and not even close to feminine, or vulnerable. Particularly vulnerable. Also, the leggings would be worn underneath a roomy pair of dark wash jeans Violet reluctantly approved of. They were a boyfriend cut, or whatever that meant. Violet tuned it out. She just knew it was jeans and she was happy to wear them. Even with leggings. 

Not really though.

They gave her black, thermal socks that made her toes sweat almost immediately, but then Loki displayed a pair of black Doc Martens, smirking at Violet’s surprise. “I like to wear them when I listen to  _ Green Day _ . Really adds to the mood.”

“For me it’s  _ My Chemical Romance _ , though you can never go wrong with  _ Blink 182 _ .” Violet countered, stared at him suspiciously. Glancing temptually at the shoes. 

Loki chuckled, placing them next to her. “Touche. Now get dressed.”

After Violet hashed it out in the main room with Pietro, Peter, and company, Violet walked with Loki back to the bedroom she unwillingly shared with Bucky and Natasha. The Alphas were not there, but their presence was still felt. Violet still smelled the shared scent between her and Bucky, mentally slapping herself when the scent instantly calmed her nerves, and there was a pile of clothes on the edge of the bed that Natasha undoubtedly placed. 

With the leggings, jeans, socks, and now Doc Martens, there were three shirts in total in the pile along with a white sports bra and matching plain cotton panties. Not so bad considering what it could be. The shirts were similar to what Violet was already wearing. A white tank top that would serve as an undershirt. A grey long sleeved shirt that was very form fitting much to her disappointment and was emblazoned with a norse rune on the chest in black lettering. Violet looked quizzically at Loki, but he didn’t deign to answer. The last was a blue and black plaid button up shirt that surprisingly matched her darker blue hair. 

All in all, Violet was pleasantly surprised, and instantly on edge. Something’s up. There’s always something up. She’s held captive by the Avengers Mafia. Of course something’s up. Of course something’s going on. They’re doing something, making these little efforts to put her and the rest at ease, and it’s not going to work. Violet’s heart might be getting scrambled because of all the shit that keeps happening, and on top of all the stuff that happened last night, but her mind isn’t fooled. She knows something’s up, and she's going to find out what it is. 

What she’ll do once she does is another matter entirely. 

She got dressed in the bathroom even though Loki left her in the room by herself, making a show of pulling the door closed behind him with a conspiratorial wink. She took a little longer than normal in order to check her ailing wounds. The knee was surprisingly in good shape, all stitches intact and undisrupted. Her hand was not, but it could be worse. Two of the stitches ripped, but they were fairly minor. She opted to leave them alone until she could get her hands on a first aid kit. 

After a few more minutes, Violet emerged from the bedroom and into the hallway completely dressed in all the clothes provided to her. Well, everything but the leggings. Fuck those things. She rolled them into a ball and threw them in the toilet, wishing she had some of the rum from last night and a lighter so she could burn those things to cinders.Otherwise, she left the room looking presentable and almost bumped into Loki who was waiting just outside the door.

Together, they walked back to the main room in silence. It was comfortable. Shockingly so considering the wicked gleam in his eyes, but comfortable nonetheless. 

When they made it back Violet found that Pietro and Wanda had changed too. Peter was wearing another coat on top of the clothes he already had on. Violet believed it was a red duffle coat, one of those really padded ones that looked like a bunch of bubbles were sewn together. On the back of it in white coloring was another symbol. A circle with a squirrel-like creature sitting on a tree with more norse lettering along the edge of the circle. Violet narrowed her eyes at that. “What’s with the squirrel?”

Peter’s head popped up, a smile overcoming his face. “Violet!”

“Hey,” Violet grumbled, opening her arms as Peter rushed towards her, grunting as his body impacted hers. 

“You look great,” Peter murmured, wrapping his tightly around her. Burying his face in the crook of her neck, and then gasping, jumping away from her. “Oh my God. He did scent you.”

Violet rolled her eyes, pulling away from her pseudo brother. “Not something I’d lie about, but I appreciate the vote of confidence. Really warms up the heart.”

Peter’s jaw dropped, brow wrinkling with guilt. “I-I didn’t mean it like that.”

Violet waved him off, “it’s fine. Not a big deal. Let’s just focus on getting through whatever we’re about to walk into.”

Peter’s eyes widened, mouth opening to speak more, but Pietro suddenly cut in.

“Peter’s right about one thing,” the taller and more muscular Omega sauntered towards the pair with a smile. Sidling next to Violet and placing a warm, comforting hand on her shoulder. “You look great.”

Violet gestured to his outfit, “so do you. You got a whole sex on a stick vibe going for you. Makes sense since you’re sleeping with the enemy and all that jazz while leaving your two friends drunk and at the mercy of The Avengers. Earned some real character points doing that.”

Pietro shrugged, but his nonchalance didn’t hide the pursed lips and sharp downturn the corner of his lips took. “I haven’t been the friend I normally am to you. To both of you. I have nothing to defend my recent actions other than piss poor excuses that I won’t bother you with. In light of that, all I can really do is apologize, and be the friend you deserve. The friend that’s been there for you since we’ve met.” 

He moved to stand in front of Violet, and Peter as well. Successfully standing between the two pseudo siblings. An action that wasn’t missed by the inhabitants of the room, Violet in particular. However, Violet didn’t comment on it. Instead she focused on Pietro’s preceding words, and how silvery his eyes were when they looked at each other. Normally they were their normally grey-ish blue, but whenever they looked at each other, the grey shifted into a molten silver that mixed with a sudden cobalt blue. Violet never took the time to marvel at that before. Nor did she think about how nice it felt whenever he touched her like this. A simple gesture that flooded her chest with warmth.

What is wrong with her?

“I’m sorry Violet,” Pietro continued in his deep, smooth voice. Tone solemn and serious. Once that brokered no argument, and no amusement. A tone that calmed Violet, settled her, and put her at ease.

He wore a plain white t-shirt, no norse runes or symbols emblazoned anywhere like Peter and Violet’s wardrobe, with a black bomber jacket and matching black pants and boots. It was a simple outfit, but formal enough to match Loki’s fanciful lifestyle. He also had on black gloves, one of which held a pretty blue scarf, and a grey beanie was sticking out of his back pocket. Put it all together and Pietro was more than ready to venture out into the cold and head to Oslo like everyone else in the room. 

Violet thought he looked good. Really good. His hair was even combed back, and his scent was coming through for once. The calming mix of Patchouli and burning sage rarely noticed by the vivacious Omega, yet always settling her when she needed it most. Today though, it did more than calm her. With the comforting weight of his hand and the wonderful scent coming through, Violet felt more warmth spread through her body. Not just in her chest, but somewhere else. Somewhere lower. 

She’s fucking losing it.

Shaking her head, she pulled away from her friend and crossed her arms over her chest. “We’ll figure it out. Let’s just get through today, and hash it out when we get a better moment. Okay?”

Pietro sighed, but nodded. Dropping his hand to his hand. “Whatever you need, I’m here.”

“Thanks man,” Violet responded stiffly, and then turned to face the rest of the room. 

Wanda stood next to Loki wearing black thigh high boots, what looked to be a red dress, and a black trench coat perfectly wrapped and buttoned in place. She too had gloves on. Red, neat, and thin compared to Pietro’s and Peter’s bulkier ones. She was wearing a scarf containing multiple colors (primarily white with lines and of red and black), and a black beret already sitting atop of her head. Makeup perfectly applied with a dark, smokey eye and wine red lips. She looked worried, concerned based on her hunched posture. Violet didn’t care though. Violet was too busy battling with the sudden changes she was going through. Changes she wasn’t prepared for whatsoever. 

Loki wore an all black suit with black shoes, black shirt, and black tie. The only spruce of color was in his scarf. Green with gold filigree. Filigree that contained another norse rune. What’s going on with that? His hair was still fashioned like a fancy grease stain that belonged on couture runways or some shit. True to his lively and royal persona.

Violet couldn’t help but compare her and Peter’s outfits to the rest of the room. Everyone seemed formal or just formal enough to pass at a business party while Peter was his normal college self and Violet was dressed like Sam and Dean Winchester’s long lost sister. She didn’t mind. She kind of wished it were true. If it was, the Winchster brothers would stop at nothing, fight everything and anything, to get their sister back. To protect her and care for her as much as they do for one another. 

It’d be nice to have someone go to the ends of the earth to save her. Something she’d do in a heartbeat for her loved ones. Would they do the same for her? No, they wouldn’t. It’s okay though, she doesn’t want or need them to do such a perilous thing. She just wants them to stay in her life for however long they want to be there. Everything else is just background noise.

“Alright,” Loki clapped his hands, “one last order of business and then we can go.”

“And what would that be exactly?” Violet grumbled, walking away from Pietro and Peter, desperately trying to clear her mind.

The Prince winked at her, taking purposeful steps towards the bar where another small pile of clothes was placed. “Your last layer of course, along with a small security measure.”

Violet cocked an eyebrow, “security measure?”

“Nothing bad,” Loki wiggled his eyebrows, “now put these on while I explain.”

The small pile consisted of a black beanie with another norse rune. The same rune that was on the grey shirt Violet was wearing. A pair of thicker black gloves akin to Pietro and Peter, and a black leather jacket with more black and blue plaid on the inside. Violet quickly put them on, refusing to admit how much she loved the feel of the items given to her. All the while, Loki started explaining the security measure. Brandishing what looked like wrist bracers to Pietro, Peter, and Violet. 

“Each of these bracers contains the Avengers insignia. Since they are unfortunately attending a meeting, they will not be joining us on our wonderful venture until much later on. As a result, the only way we are allowed to leave the property without the Alphas is if we all wear these. It’ll offer us protection from any unwanted attention and provide invitation to the most exclusive establishments in the city.” Violet leveled a glare at Loki, who quickly took on a submissive, menial position. “Just to clarify, wearing these bracers does not mean you belong to this Alpha or that Alpha. All it does is signal to anyone who sees it that you are under the protection of The Avengers and are not to be trifled with.”

“Given the Avengers reputation, wouldn’t wearing one cause people to automatically assume that we belong, to which we don’t-” Violet cut herself off, eyes scanning the room for cameras and such before continuing, “belong to the Avengers?”

“Of course,” Loki smiled, “and their assumptions will provide us even more protection. It’s one thing to mess with someone under their protection, but to mess with their Omega?” Loki tsked, shaking his head, “you won’t find anyone in this city foolish enough to attempt that.”

“Yeah well, we’ve never been to this city,” Violet gestured to Pietro and Peter before pointing at her own chest, “and asshole Alphas never seem to stop messing with us. Take the last few weeks for example if you really need one.”

Loki’s smile grew. “I assure you, Oslo is not anything like your New York. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised by what it holds, if you’ll be so kind to give it a chance.”

Violet shrugged. “As long as I don’t get shoved back inside for hours on end, I’ll give anything a chance at this point.”

“Duly noted,” Loki winked, “though with what I have planned later this afternoon, I must admit there will be hours spent indoors once more. I do assure you it’ll be spacious and contain the most active of activities.”

Violet’s glare intensified to the extreme. “I swear to God, if you take me to a sex club or an orgy I will-”

“No-no-no,” Loki chuckled, waving his hands quickly, “nothing like that. All the Alphas, including my own, would quite possibly kill me if I did that.”

Violet straightened up, “so what are you planning?”

Loki hummed, a wicked gleam filling his eyes as he lifted the bracer in hand, “come along and you’ll find out.”

Meanwhile, Frank Castle and Deadpool arrived in a borrowed Quinjet. Frank looked like his usual angry self, Deadpool was bouncing on his toes in excitement, and not far behind them was Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr. Erik had his hands bound and attached to his waist in front of him while Charles’ hands were handcuffed to the armrests of his wheelchair. Though both possessed strong, brace faces, they were both absolutely terrified.

Last, and certainly never the least, turning off the engine in the pilot’s chair was Logan. The ‘traitor’ that got Bucky captured and experimented on by HYDRA years ago. The man who also possessed the same serum Bucky and Steve were injected with. The man who was about to walk into the lion’s den and help reveal the ultimate truth bomb that could end with all of them flayed alive before being burned and incinerated until there was nothing left of them to torture or maim. 

If Scott were here, this would be the shit show to end all shit shows. Sadly, he wasn’t here. He was in New Jersey, driving through the dense and thick forests alongside Alexander Pierce who was taking him to see the inner workings of Project Insight, and work out a plan to destroy the Avengers Mafia once and for all. 

(3 Guesses what/who that's for?)

(Oh no)

(who do you think that's about?)

(oh boy)

(Deadpool lol)

(Give this girl a break)

(Preview for what's to come)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about this chapter guys. It wasn't my best but I still hope you guys liked it. Thank you so much for reading, and I promise you the next chapter will have a lot more stuff going on. And by a lot of stuff, I mean this boiled down version I'm going to summarize.
> 
> AVENGERS VS X-MEN (plus Frank) 
> 
> PIETRO VS PETER
> 
> VIOLET VS NATURE
> 
> TONY VS . . . ;)
> 
> Oh! and paintball.
> 
> Thank you all again so much! Please leave me a comment and let me know what you think!!! :D


	37. Be Prepared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something wicked this way comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes in the "Chapter". :D
> 
> EDIT!
> 
> Here’s link to the story I mentioned in here! 😄
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/27878753/chapters/68261421

Chapter 36

Be Prepared

_Hello all! Thank you so much for sticking with me so far in the series and for all the wonderful and insightful comments you’ve left behind. It’s been one hell of a ride and I’m so grateful for the entire experience. Before you start to worry, this isn’t a “sorry, I give up on this story” type of message I’m leaving you. I’m still going to write and continue this story and post as regularly as I can. This message is multi-purposed and possesses a good news/bad news type of feel, but in no way does it end with me signing off and leaving you hanging._

_You ready?_

_For starters, let’s get the bad news out of the way first. This is not a legit chapter, nor is it a baby chapter. The next chapter is going to be very long, jam packed with a whole bunch of (hopefully) cool stuff, and thus will take me longer to get out. I unfortunately haven’t made much progress on it because of the holiday but I assure you I will get back to it and work on it as soon as I can. Despite the delay, I am going to leave you with tiny (tiny) snippets of dialogue that hopefully get you guys super excited for it though :D._

_Now, the good news. Way back when COVID really hit the world and forced us into Lockdown/Quarantine, I started writing an isolated story for a series entitled “Roaring Hot” by the wonderful and amazing Author TellMeNoAgain. She was kind enough to allow me into her Marvel inspired universe where Tony Stark runs the biggest and baddest Mafia in all of New York in the 1920’s and adopts sweet Peter Parker into the family. It’s such a cool series and if you haven’t checked it out, then I strongly suggest you do considering the isolated story I wrote for her world should be posted sometime next week XD. If you’re interested, then be on the lookout for it. If it comes out before I post the next chapter (which is a strong possibility) then I will put the link in the opening note so everyone has the chance to read it._

_Again, I appreciate you all so much. Thank you again, and here are some snippets of dialogue you might just see in the coming chapter :D._

_But I’m going to let you awesome readers guess on which dialogue belongs to who_ _😉_ _._

“Don’t worry sweetie, I’m not leaving you guys. Cuddle up right here, and I’ll get you somewhere warm.” 

“Now’s not the time to fight. Both of you need to stop before they come back.” 

“ **YOU**.” 

“Is there such a thing as a calm, restful night where I’m concerned? Or am I just forever doomed to be Sam Winchester living constant disaster after disaster until I’m dead or somehow con a turncoat angel into releasing me from my own personal Hell?” 

“It’s not possible. It can’t be.” 

“Oh my goodness! It’s YOU! It’s really you! You’re so beautiful! So strong and beat up and – and holy shit is that kitten? And a PUPPY!” 

“Shut up, Wade.” 

“Nut up Parker or be left in the wind.” 

“Hey traitor, who the fuck are these guys?” 

“She’s not my crutch. She could never be.” 

“In most facets of my life, I both need and desire the thrill of a challenge. However, that does not pertain to my particular tastes in the bedroom. There, I expect and command complete obedience. No fighting. No struggling. Only submission.” 

“If she remembers, she’ll die.” 

“I know who Violet’s other Father is.” 

“Oh. My. God.” 

_And here are a couple more little previews because I can't help it._

__

__

__

_XD Hopefully I’ll be able to post next Saturday. If not, then be sure to stay tuned :D. Thanks again!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who do YOU think each dialogue belongs too? ;) Leave a comment and let me know your answers!


	38. High Hopes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Setting the stage.
> 
> Chapter inspired by "High Hopes", performed by Skald.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so mad at myself XD. I had to split the chapter again. I'm so sorry you guys, but this was getting way too long. And I mean WAY TOO LONG. Therefore, I've decided to split it again and stop making you guys wait. Good news is that part of what will be the next chapter is already written, I've just got to hunker down and get it done. All of you have been so patient, and so amazing, and I appreciate every single one of you! Thank you so much!!! 
> 
> Also, if you're interested, please check out the story I added to the Roaring Hot series. The link is in the beginning notes of the previous chapter. 
> 
> Now that I have all that stuff out of the way, be prepared! Weird shit and things that might piss you off will happen in this chapter! Also, I realized there was a friends with benefits kind of relationship happening under my nose, and I had no idea! Read on to find out who it involves :D.

Chapter 37

High Hopes

__

_(A rare preview :D)_

_Violet_

It’s official. She’s getting baited. Loki was baiting her, tempting her and swaying her into the Avengers tainted and bloody grasps. He’s baiting her, and it’s working. She hated to admit it, she hates herself for allowing it to happen, but it’s the truth. He’s baiting her, and she’s taking it.

Seriously, who in their right mind would give up the chance to drive, or ride if they didn’t know how to drive, a motorcycle in one of the most beautiful places to ever exist? People who haven't suffered years of trauma only to be kidnapped and held captive by some of the most sadistic and scariest people on the planet. So really the question should instead be, who in their fucked-up mind would give up this opportunity?

Not Violet.

The moment Loki showed her the motorcycle, her eyes went wide and stared at him suspiciously yet hopefully. He smirked at her expression, and she knew he had her. She’s fucked. Whatever he had planned today, she knew it was going to be geared towards her and getting her more comfortable or something, and already he was winning. He had the upper hand which means she has to up her game and quick.

But first.

Pietro and Peter’s expressions were downright hilarious, Instagram/Meme worthy the moment Violet practically ran for that motorcycle instead following them into the swanky, upscale black corvette Loki was going to drive them to Oslo in. Wanda was already seated in the passenger seat, smiling brightly as she gave Violet a little wave. Rhodey was going to sit in the back with the boys and was already thoroughly exasperated by the pair while also extremely amused when he caught Violet gawking at the bike. Circling around it, poking it to make sure it was real. Grinning when she realized it was.

Pietro was laughing his ass off and waving at her to leave, “go on! We’ll meet you there!”

Peter was not amused. He looked absolutely terrified. “What are you doing?”

That made Violet pause. She’s not Peter’s biggest fan right now, but he’s still her brother. Surrogate brother, but still her brother. Her gentle and sheltered brother who should not be left alone with Loki. A man who is not to be underestimated or treated lightly. She’s only known the older Omega for about a week, but she’s learned enough about him to take him seriously. The guy can be bad news. Really bad news. Maybe she shouldn’t leave Peter with him? Alone, definitely not.

Then again, he’s not alone.

“Don’t worry about him,” Pietro shouted, grabbing Peter by the back of his puffy red jacket, and pulling him further into the car. “Go have some fun!”

“What?! No Violet, don't go!” Peter struggled against Pietro’s hold, immediately trying to get out of the car.

Rhodey stepped in, placing his hand on the roof of the car, and leaning down to look Peter in the eye.

“Peter, that woman has been fighting tooth and nail for weeks trying to save your ass, and now his ass too.” He paused, pointing to Pietro. “She’s earned some alone time, and you need to start looking after yourself. Now nut up Parker or be left in the wind.” Rhodey chastised, giving the boy a firm look that wasn’t meant to be scary, but caused Peter to flinch away in fright all the same.

“Watch it,” Violet warned instinctually. It wasn’t nearly as harsh or confrontational as it normally is, but it got her point across. The beta looked away from Peter’s fearful expression, calm and steady gaze landing on Violet.

“Apologies,” Rhodey raised his hands slightly, and bowed his head. “Newbie here and I will keep an eye on Peter. Go ahead and take some time to yourself. Have fun. You need it.” Rhodey smirked, gesturing to the bike while beginning to slide into the seat, forcing Pietro and Peter to pull back more. “Just make sure you wear the helmet. There’s an earpiece on the inside that’ll connect you to FRIDAY. She’ll give you directions in case you decide to race ahead or something.” His gaze took a more serious turn as he pointed directly at her. “The bike has a tracker in it, and so does that bracelet. I don’t think you’d be stupid enough to run, but if being friends with Tony has taught me anything, it’s that intelligence is not without sheer stupidity. He’s the smartest man I know, and he’s also the dumbest idiot I know. Don’t be stupid.”

Violet snorted, basking in Rhodey’s roast of Tony before glancing at the bike once more. She really wanted to drive it. It wasn’t anything special. Or at least, Violet didn’t think it was. She loved driving motorcycles and knew how to fix them to make them last, but she never cared to learn about the history or relevance of them. Billy never taught her so surely it wasn’t that important. Right? She recognized the model. Triumph Bonneville, a T100. It was black with streaks of dark reds and blues, a strange silver decal on the top that consisted of a black hourglass over a red star. Weird. She’d seen the model in Magazines and ads over the years. Apparently, the overall design was modeled after the early bikes from the late 50’s, early 60’s. She wasn’t sure because this one seemed oddly specific, tailor made with someone in mind, but it didn’t really matter right now.

What mattered is that she really wanted to drive it, but Peter started kicking up more of a fuss in the backseat.

“No! Don’t go! Come with us!” Peter tried to push his way out of the car, but Pietro held onto his jacket.

“Peter! Fucking stop it!” Pietro growled, giving the other Omega a look Violet was slightly surprised to see. A look filled with what she could only attribute to concealed loathing. Violet’s head cocked back slightly. Where the Hell did that come from?

“No!” Peter shouted, turning sharply to push Pietro away before attempting to climb over Rhodey to get to Violet.

Okay, time to butt in.

“Calm down!” Violet ordered, rolling her eyes as she reluctantly pulled away from the bike. Forcing herself not to stomp her way over to the Corvette before leaning down to peer inside. All three bodies in the backseat stilled immediately. Rhodey looked disappointed, Pietro seemed almost disgusted, and Peter was overly relieved. “What the Hell is going on?”

“Ride with us,” Peter repeated, gesturing inside the Corvette. “Please?”

“Why are you so against me not riding with you?” Violet asked, tone stern and commanding. “I’m not leaving you trapped in there with Bucky and Natasha so can have their way with you while I go frolicking naked in the woods, it’s a car ride where you’re hanging out with your good friend Pietro, and Rhodey who’s surprisingly turning out to be a pretty cool guy, while I drive around you guys on a motorcycle. Not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” Peter insisted, the relief quickly replaced by fear.

She sighed, “how? How is it a big deal?”

“You got shot last time!” Peter returned sharply, “you almost died!”

“. . . yeah?” Violet mumbled, biting her bottom lip.

“Yeah,” Peter eyes widening in surprise. “Does that not bother you?”

“Getting shot? Yeah, of course it does.”

“Then why are _you_ acting so blasé about it?”

She narrowed her eyes, “because I was shot by a lunatic with a gun. Something that happened _after_ we stopped driving the bike.”

“The bike brought us there,” Peter insisted, slowly becoming more frantic, “it brought us to the man who almost killed you.”

“Peter,” Violet softened her voice, “the bike had nothing to do with it. I stole the bike because it’s easier for me to drive and help us escape the Avengers with. We were in that specific neighborhood because it was the quickest way to the airport where I was going to hijack a helicopter.” From the corner of her eye, Pietro cocked an eyebrow. A shocked squeak escaping him. Violet waved him off. “We weren’t able to make it thanks to the blizzard and the Winter Soldier following us on a better, more advanced bike. He was getting closer, the weather was getting worse, and unfortunately you went into heat and needed medical attention. So, I made a call that led us to that alley, which is where the significance of the bike ends.”

“And you got shot,” Peter pressed, chin trembling, “because of me.”

“I got shot because I pissed off a maniac by calling him out,” Violet urged, staring unblinkingly at Peter. “You weren’t the reason.”

“You wouldn’t have stopped if I-” Peter continued, tears beginning to well up.

Normally Violet would reach forward and hug him close. Whisper softly in his ear while carding her fingers through his hair. Tell him it’s okay. Assure him it’s not his fault. Be soft and gentle, and slowly ease him out of his worries and anxiety.

She couldn’t do that today.

She’s not sure why. Maybe it was the drunken revelations from last night’s party. Maybe it was Peter all but offering himself up to Tony and The Avengers, forcing her hand with Betty and pulling miracle after miracle out of her ass just to make sure her son still had a mom. Maybe it was more than that. Some weird and fucked up combination of all those events plus something Violet couldn’t fathom. She didn’t know, and right now she didn’t want to. So, instead of playing into their normal routine, Violet pulled away slightly and gave Peter a harsh, unyielding look.

Boy is she going to hate herself forever after this.

“Maybe it was,” she responded in a steely tone, willing herself to not back down at the horrified look his expression abruptly shifted into.

“What?” Peter, Pietro, and Rhodey all seemed to mumble and squeak in unison. So many shocked expressions filled with bulging eyes, dropped jaws, and utter looks of disbelief. Even Loki, who just settled into the driver’s seat, and Wanda gasped in shock. Eyes wide and faces paling. Violet ignored it and kept going.

“If you’re so convinced that your heat is the reason why I got shot, then maybe it is your fault.” Violet shrugged, nails digging into her palm as she spewed the vile words. “And you know what? Let’s think back to Halloween. Almost everyone in that Goddamn house got captured that night. Wanda, Karen, Foggy, and even Pietro were tied up and carted to the tower like Prisoners. You were drugged and carried there like a fucking ragdoll. Jessica, Matt, and Sam somehow fucking got out and I have no clue how they managed that. I have no idea what happened to the survivors upstairs, hopefully they managed to stay out of it and hide until everyone was finally gone. More than likely, they’re probably in a ditch or floating down river or something as equally tragic. Me though? Where was I? What happened to me when all that shit was going down?” She placed two fingers to her temple, closed her eyes, and pretended to sort through her memories like a sci-fi character when she opened them abruptly, glaring the shit out of Peter. “I was a few houses away, watching the whole thing, and going into my own heat. Therefore, keeping with your logic, all of that was my fault.”

“No,” Peter stated without a thought, a bit of steel of his own entering his tone. “None of that was your fault.”

“Really?” Violet cocked an eyebrow, “how are you so sure about that?”

“You couldn’t have done anything without getting yourself hurt. You were outnumbered, outmatched, and way out of your depth. No one, not even scary Alphas like Frank, could have stopped them or saved our friends. No one.” Peter quickly defended, all fear and shock gone from his expression. Passion and determination taking its place. “You did the best that you could, just like you always do.”

“It wasn’t my fault? Even though I went into heat?”

“Of course,” Peter confirmed with a stiff nod.

“Then why is it not my fault, but it is yours?” Violet returned vehemently, tapping the roof of the car with her fingers.

He opened his mouth, intent on explaining, but then he stopped. Realization of her statement hitting him like a freight train.

Violet didn’t give him time to react. “Everything was against us that day. The Avengers were on our ass, the weather was a complete bitch, a maniac was waiting in the wings to strike out and make his mark, topping it all off with bad biological timing. We were not going to get away, we were not going to come out on top. Even if I didn’t stop in the alley, we were going to get caught either way. Knowing me, I would have still ended up unconscious one way or another. Whether it’s because I was shot, knocked out with a right hook, or slipped and cracked my skull open. Doesn’t matter. The end of that day was written in stone, and there’s nothing we could have done about it.”

She leaned back down, taking a deep breath, and staring deep into her pseudo brother’s eyes. “It wasn’t your fault, just like Halloween wasn’t my fault. Shit happens, bad and life altering shit, and when it hits the fan all we can do is duck and keep going. Keep moving forward and dodge when we can. Okay?”

His chin trembled once more. “Okay.”

Violet jerked her head up and down. “I love you. You’re my brother. None of that’s going to change.” She pointed to the bike behind her. “I’m going for a drive, and you’re going to hang out with Pietro and Rhodey while keeping an eye on Wanda. Until then, I’ll meet you guys in Oslo.” She nodded to Rhodey’s still shocked expressions. “Anything happens to them, Wanda included, I’ll run you over until you’re one step above roadkill.”

Shocked and impressed, or something resembling that, Rhodey gave her a thumbs up. “Okay Mad Max.”

She rolled her eyes, and then walked back to the bike with a mixture of excitement and self-hatred.

Don’t think about it. Don’t worry about it. Apologize to him later when your mind finally resets and everything’s back to its fucked up normal. Don’t think about it. Don’t worry about it. Just. Just.

Drive.

And she did. Walking over to the custom bike in a huff, Violet grabbed the sleek black helmet resting on the seat and slipped it on over her beanie. Even with the additional clothing, it fit like a glove. Surprisingly easy to breathe in too. Nice. She fastened the straps beneath her chin, gingerly swinging her right leg up, ignoring the dull pain in her knee and side as she did, and then straddled the bike.

“Hello Violet,” FRIDAY’s calm, soothing voice spoke clearly in the helmet. “Shall I provide you with directions to the city?”

“Yep, but don’t take it personally if I don’t follow them right away.” Violet kicked on the engine with ease, grinning as the motor came to life. “I’m long overdue for a reckless joyride.”

“Would you like updates on road hazards and blockages?”

“Definitely,” she revved the throttle, “they’re the best paths to take.”

With a two-finger salute, Violet shot off down the beaten path, and raced ahead towards the surprisingly clear roads.

_Logan_

The Corvette and Motorcycle were parked at the front of the castle. Towards the back of the castle was Logan and company with their own version of a Quinjet. They were marching purposefully, yet warily, into the castle just as Violet sped away from it. Frank led the group with his signature glare while Erik trailed directly behind him with a worried glare of his own, glancing to his mate every few seconds as he did. Charles was being recklessly, almost dangerously, shoved in his wheelchair through the snow-covered landscape by an extremely happy Deadpool. The assassin was currently singing, “ _Nothing Compares to You_ ”, and Logan was about to start screaming.

He was trudging along at the end of the group, hands clenched and at the ready. Ready for the fight he knew was coming. Ready for the worst when it came to the Avengers. He was blacklisted, ousted, and targeted. To put it plainly. If they ever see him again, he’s dead, and he’s walking right to them in their own safehouse.

Something he’d only ever do for that kid. For all the years he missed with her, for the years Scott missed with her, and for all the mistakes that led to this point. He might be walking into an Avengers style execution, but Logan didn’t care. He’d walk through Hell and back for the rest of time to make it up to her, to Scott, to everyone. He’d do it with a smile if it meant that girl would be okay. If it meant she’d be safe, happy, and away from all the bullshit that makes up this world. If it meant Scott got to be with his daughter, to remember her once more. He’d do it all, and he’d do it all again.

Though he could definitely do without Deadpool’s fucking singing.

Frank had just reached the large, opulent door leading into the castle when it abruptly opened. Loud, obnoxious voices filtered through into the cold area, squeals of minor pain and complaints filling the air around the group. Deadpool stopped singing, Frank placed a hand on his gun, Erik retreated slightly and placed a calm hand on Charles shoulder, the Omega latched onto his Alpha’s hand tightly, and Logan clenched his fists a hair tighter. The door opened wider, and the voices became clearer.

“C’mon Rocket! When are you going to tell us what you’re working on with the arrow guy?” A man’s voice whined.

“Never,” a thoroughly annoyed voice growled, “now shut up Quill! Violet’s already left and Loki’s about to take the rest of the Omegas to Oslo.”

Violet? The kid? Frank glanced over his shoulder and met Logan’s eyes. Logan nodded, listening closer.

“So?” The first voice, Quill, commented.

The growling voice, Rocket, growled once more. “So, we’re supposed to be shadowing them. Keep an eye on Violet to make sure she doesn’t run off.”

“That’s a laugh,” Quill chuckled, “that woman ain’t leaving Parker for anything.”

“Probably not,” Rocket conceded, “but the newbie might try something. Doesn’t matter that he signed on with Rogers. We don’t know him, no one here does, which means we have to be extra careful. He does something, somehow Violet and Peter get away as a result, we’re fucked. With the mood Romanoff and Barnes are in, we’ll be flayed for even considering slacking off.”

Mood? Romanoff and Barnes? Not good.

“When have you been such a stickler for the Avengers orders? Does your mystery project involve a brain transplant? Dr. Strange _has_ been around a lot more recently.”

“If you don’t stop talking, _I’m_ going to give _you_ a brain transplant,” Rocket threatened. “I’m not doing this for the Avengers. None of us are. We’re doing this for Violet. Kid could have died last night because of Parker, her shitty friends, and The Avengers. We gotta make sure it doesn’t happen again. If that means falling in line to the Avengers ridiculous rules, keeping her and Parker separated for the day, and getting her to that therapist Dr. Strange found, then I’m all for it.” The door suddenly opened all the way, revealing two men standing against one another. One short, scruffy, and clearly the owner of the growling voice. Rocket. The other tall, bewildered, and more than a little scared by the shorter man. Quill. “If you’re going to spend the day giving me shit over that, then tell me right now so I can have Gamora lock you in a box until we get Violet back safe.”

Quill raised his hands in concession. “Alright. I hear you. No more shit out of me.”

“I doubt that,” Rocket turned, finally noticing the group standing in the cold. “Who the Hell are you guys?”

“We’re here for the meeting,” Charles spoke calmly, expertly hiding the tremor in his voice while tightening his grasp on Erik’s hand. “The Avengers are waiting for us.”

His eyes narrowed. “Stark mentioned only two people. The Punisher and Deadpool. Didn’t mention a whole group.”

“Don’t matter,” Frank growled, taking a step closer to the man. “What do you mean Violet could have died?”

Rocket cocked an eyebrow. “Punisher?”

“What happened to Violet?” Frank took another step, expression filled with intimidation.

Rocket didn’t even flinch. “The Avengers will fill you in. As for the rest,” he gestured to the group, “hopefully you brought body bags. They’re not in the mood for surprises.”

“Neither am I,” Frank grunted.

Rocket shrugged. “Follow the hallway, FRIDAY will find a way to contact you once you're in deep enough. She’ll lead you to them.”

With that, Rocket charged past the group. Quill quickly followed. “Speaking of Gamora, where is she?”

Rocket shook his head. “She’s on the jet with Drax and Mantis. _They_ had no problems waking up on time.”

“Why didn’t Gamora-”

“She tried to wake you up, and you puked on her. Left me to deal with your hungover carcass while she got cleaned up and ready for the mission.”

“So that’s why the room smelled like Violet’s leftover Red Pepper soup,” was the last Logan heard of the pair before he followed Frank, and the rest of the group, inside the castle. The door somehow shut and locked them inside the moment he finished stepping over the threshold.

“Here goes nothing,” Logan mumbled to himself.

_Pietro_

For an extroverted, life-of-the-party type of personality, Loki’s a very quiet driver. No word was uttered. No grunt, no sigh, no sound. Just eyes on the road, body stiff as a board, and complete silence at the front of the car. He could have been a robot or a training dummy for all Pietro knew. Wanda too, but that wasn’t a shock. Wanda’s naturally a quiet person. Loki was the surprise. Though with the borderline panic attack Peter was currently going through as he constantly shifted places in the back of the car, Pietro surmised that maybe there were sounds to be heard up front. He just couldn’t hear them.

Special thanks to Peter Parker.

The young Omega kept changing positions in the backseat. One second kneeling on Pietro’s legs to peer out his window with wide, frightened eyes. The next scrambling over Rhodey to look out the other window. Mostly he looked out the back, gripping the seat cushions with severe tightness. Wearing that same, petrified expression as he searched and searched for Violet. Why he was looking behind the car when Violet had raced off and was clearly _in front of them_ (though she had raced so far ahead it’s impossible to tell where she could be now), Pietro didn’t know. All he knows is that he’s reaching the end of his patience, along with Rhodey, but they have yet to stop this. Though annoyed, Pietro was going to let Peter suffer through his anxiety. Let him panic and make a fool out of himself. It was cold, perhaps cruel of him to do this, but he didn’t care.

Violet has done so much, _so much_ , for Peter Parker. She’s gone through the equivalent of Hell and back for this boy. She’s bled for him, almost died for him, and what has he done for her in return?

Nothing even close.

Pietro sighed, rubbing his face. That was harsh. Wildly harsh. Not many could come close to the things Violet’s done for him, for Pietro, and all of their friends. She gives every bit of herself to ensure their friends' safety and wellbeing. Does everything to make them happy, to make them laugh and feel joy, to comfort and provide a steady place for them to lean on her and heal. No one could ever come close to Violet.

Especially Pietro.

He’s not perfect. Some days he questions whether he’s even a good person, especially since Violet was taken. The moment she was gone, everything went to shit. The Omega House was done, Matt went missing, Frank couldn’t be found or reached, Sam was either punching the wall or working himself to the bone before he also went missing, and Jessica was a drunken mess who was too busy screaming at the world to do her job and work cases. It’s a wonder how some of them can still pay rent. Through all of that, what did Pietro do?

Worked his job. Ate and slept. Continued with his day-to-day life just like Foggy and Karen, except he didn’t reach out to anyone. Apart from going to that last disastrous meeting at the Omega Protection Agency, Pietro hasn’t been in contact with most of them. All the stuff he knew was courtesy of Foggy. He feels bad about his distance, but what could he do at the time? There was no solution. No way for any of them to fix it without Frank, the only guy who can possibly pull off a rescue mission in Avengers Tower. Even with his old war buddy Curtis, and Detective Brett Mahoney stepping in to help where he can, there wasn’t anything they could do. Nothing.

So, Pietro stepped away and returned to some of his old routine. Not much of it changed. The only real difference is that Pietro lives in the living room now. He moved all his stuff out of his and Wanda’s shared room. He couldn’t handle sleeping in there anymore. Couldn’t really sleep at all if he were honest. So, to the living room where Netflix and HULU reigned supreme. Otherwise, he ate, slept, went to work, got laid twice, and did it all again. It was a hollow existence, but it was necessary at the time. Many would disagree with him, Violet included, but in his mind it’s better to move forward with a boring routine than ponder on things that are out of his control.

He never forgot what happened though. There wasn’t a moment he didn’t think about Violet, and all the things she’d do to protect Peter. He thought about Wanda too, but he was more angry than worried where she was concerned. Jumping ship to another Alpha after all she’d been through with her last one, and dragging both Violet and Peter with her? It was hard not to be angry with her. Not for a second was he worried for that boy. Pietro would bet his entire inheritance that the moment Violet got captured, no one else was worried about Peter and they’re still not worried about him. Why? If Violet’s around, whether maimed or unconscious or whatever happens to her, that boy will be safe. She’ll make sure of it. No matter what, through Hell or high water, Violet would make sure that boy’s okay while enduring all the pain in the world.

Something she’s certainly lived up too, hence why everyone’s justifiably worried about her.

Pietro couldn’t decide if he was _more_ worried about her now, or less worried. It’s a weird struggle because he’s always been worried about her. Always wanted to do more for her, with her, or least watch her back when she does dangerous stuff without him. He just wanted to be around her, and more importantly he wanted her to feel safe around him.

To want him around too.

After what just happened, watching Violet tell off Peter the way she did, Pietro felt so many different things. Proud. Aroused. Like, definitely aroused. That was probably the hottest thing he’s ever seen her do. Well, second after watching her standing up to everyone while she defended that worthless scum Betty. That was fucking gorgeous. If Pietro wasn’t careful, he might just pop a boner here and now if he thought about it for too long.

The fear of her current state of mind, what could be going through Violet’s head right now, kept that potential predicament at bay.

She’s fierce. A warrior born at the wrong time. In the wrong type of world. She belonged in fantasy movies like Lord of The Rings and Chronicles of Narnia. Badass TV shows like Supernatural and Game of Thrones. Stories that welcomed and empowered people like her. Willful, and idealistic, people who will do what’s right. No matter the price. In stories where she could follow the Hero’s Journey and find the happy ending she so desperately deserves.

Yet she’s stuck here in this cruel, unforgiving world. Tending to people who don’t deserve her. Not even a little bit.

Though it was quite the sight, Pietro was scared for her. It was fun to watch, and a long time coming, but Pietro’s not stupid. Controlled by his libido and short temper? Yes, most definitely. He’s not stupid though, nor is he blind. Violet losing her cool and putting Peter in his place like she would to Pietro was a bad sign. Peter doesn’t get the hard, firm side of her. Not like this. He gets cuddles and soft murmurs, not the rigid exterior and cold facts delivered through an unyielding tone and sharp expression. He gets the soft, nurturing Violet. Not the badass _, I will whip you into shape if it’s the last thing I do,_ Violet. This could only mean one thing.

Peter’s low-key treachery, and true feelings for Tony Stark, broke Violet. He broke her. Why else would she let The Winter Soldier kiss her and scent her? He broke her, so there’s only one thing Pietro could think to do.

Help her . . . by keeping Peter away from her. At the very least keep her focus on anyone but Peter.

And once they reach Oslo, that’s exactly what Pietro’s going to do.

And while he began plotting all the possible ways to do just that, he (along with everyone else in the car) completely missed the gigantic set of animal tracks following a trail made by a singular tire track into the woods. Even Peter missed it, thanks to the swift change in direction to kneel on Pietro’s legs once more, where the tracks were in a different direction. No one noticed, so onward they went.

Completely unaware of what was happening, not so far away in the thicket of trees, to their dear friend.

_Avengers_

In the main room stood the core of the Avengers.

Natasha was laid out on one of the couches, twirling a knife in her hand. Violet’s father’s knife. The one where _Brea_ was engraved into the metal while _Violet_ was crudely scratched in. The knife they have yet to return, and intended to return, to their fierce Chosen. She was dressed to kill. All black wardrobe, military style boots, and a plethora of weapons stashed all on her person. Red hair curled and styled to perfection. Though she seemed at ease and prepared, she was . . . wary. She’s heard of the infamous Deadpool and knows well of The Punisher. With Deadpool, it was the unknown that unsettled her. How does he fight? Was he unpredictable? Is he truly as unstable as the rumors say? With The Punisher, it was Frank that worried her. Particularly his reaction to Violet’s state of mind.

Steve stood in front of the fireplace. Decked out in tactical gear that made him much bulkier and taller than he is. Apart from the soft gleam in his balmy eyes, Steve took on the visage of the Captain. Stoic, stern, with a touch of arrogance that unnerved anyone who looked at him. Jaw clenched, head held high, hands grasped at the small of his back while his chest puffed out. Leaning against the edge of the fireplace was his hammer. It was short but packed a wallop. Silver and encrusted with Nordic runes. A special gift from Thor and Loki. A true honor in their native land. Though he would never bear the name of Thor, he will be treated as such whenever he comes to their homeland. A major improvement on the sledgehammer. Unlike Natasha, he was not thinking about who was coming. Instead, his focus was on keeping his thoughts solely on the mission. An unfortunate problem considering the hard-on he was still fighting after his morning with Pietro. With his Chosen. The soft gleam grew, threatening to ruin the firm, intimidating exterior of the Captain.

Bruce and Tony sat together on the edge of the pool table. Neither were dressed for the occasion, and both were extremely tired. They were still wearing the same clothes from last night, only for vastly different reasons. Tony because he was interrupted by Jarvis, threatened, and nearly maimed by Natasha, and then spent the night doing homework while his darling Chosen wiggled and thrived in his bondage on the bed next to him. Bruce because he spent all night crying and hugging his son close to his chest, fighting The Hulk at every second. His child was being cared for by some of the kitchen staff at the moment since Mantis was going with the Guardians to keep an eye on Violet. Neither Tony or Bruce had their head’s completely in the game, and thus were spending the time going over the notes and criteria for this whole meeting.

Clint was standing at the window with Thor, watching the outside area with precision. Clint had tac gear reminiscent of Natasha, but Thor wore only a t-shirt and jeans with combat boots. He was not afraid to get bloody or be hurt. Thor had no doubt they would handle the mysterious assassin with ease, especially with an ally in the form of Frank Castle arriving with him. Thor was not worried, and neither was Clint. They’ve been in worse, _far worse_ , situations than this and come out on top. This is a simple, yet unorthodox, meeting. They can handle this.

To the outside observer, these are extremely dangerous people plotting the end of the world. For those who know better, they were nervous and wary individuals who were not nearly as prepared as they normally were. A certain reluctance hung in the air around them, and it only got worse when Bucky entered the room.

He was in full gear, weaponized and alert. Hair tied back in a haphazard bun, metal arm free from the jacket. His expression was dark, serious, and severe. Back stiff and eyes narrowed. All hints of warmth and softness from his morning with Violet were gone. All the humanity she gave him, made him feel, was absent. All that was left was the mission. The Soldier. Bucky with Yasha waiting in the back of his mind, ready to take control.

“Are we all set?” Bucky asked Steve in a cold, detached tone.

“Yeah,” Steve answered promptly, turning away from the fireplace to face him. “Everyone’s in place. It’ll take an army and all the luck in the world for Deadpool to make it out of here alive.”

“Good,” Bucky nodded. “Has Loki left with the Chosens yet?”

“Just a few minutes ago,” Clint answered softly, “Violet raced ahead on her bike. Even wore the helmet.”

Bucky grunted in approval, “how did the rest take it?”

“Pietro and Wanda encouraged her to go,” Clint continued with a serious tone, “Peter objected though.”

“How so?” Natasha interjected, cocking an eyebrow, knife no longer twirling in her fingers.

“Mentioned her getting shot by Kilgrave. Blamed it on the bike before blaming himself.” Clint answered, tone growing darker. “Almost when into a panic attack.”

Natasha sat up just as Steve and Bucky walked closer to Clint, Tony’s head popping up at the mention of Peter’s name. “And she still left on the bike?”

“Yeah. She righted him, gave him some hard facts, threatened Rhodey, then left.”

Tony’s head swung towards Clint, flabbergasted. “She threatened Rhodey?!”

Clint nodded, “she told him he’d be one step above roadkill if anything happened to her friends.”

“And she got away with that?” Tony’s eyebrows flew into his hair. Even Bruce’s eyes widened at the knowledge.

Clint tore his eyes from the window, glaring at Tony. “It’s Violet.”

Silence.

More silence.

Everyone suddenly nodded, murmurs of _yeah_ , _makes sense_ , and other admissions went through the room.

“How did we reach this point?” Thor asked softly, fully turning away from the window to face the team. “A month ago, if any of our Chosens dared to speak or do any of the things that resembles Violet’s behavior, they would have been severely punished. If one of us were to do them, especially on a mission and without permission, we would have faced punishment as well. Why is _she_ the exception?”

Silence.

Shockingly, Tony was the first to answer. “Well, we did have a hand in ruining her life. You know, killing and torturing her brother. Forcing her on the run. Creating a domino effect filled with awful events that molded the person we are now dealing with.”

“Especially since her brother was butchered for a crime he didn’t commit,” Bruce added in a scratchy voice.

Tony flinched at that. “Right. That.”

“We’ve caused her so much pain,” Steve cut in, arms moving to fold them across his chest. “Pain we need to atone for.”

“She’s not like the rest of them,” Natasha stood from the couch, sheathing Violet’s knife in the back of her waistband. “She’s seen things, experienced so much. She’s stronger than them. Wilder too. We can’t treat her like the rest.”

“I see,” Thor nodded brusquely, walking away from the windows. “I mean no offense, I just worry.” He smirked suddenly, shaking his head. “It’s a strange feeling. Worrying for someone who isn’t my Chosen. My Loki. I wonder why that is?”

“We all worry, Thor.” Steve addressed his fellow Alpha. “We can’t help but worry about her.”

“There’s just something about her that makes us all weak in the knees, or almost shit our pants.” Tony stated, pursing his lips. “I don’t think anyone outside of this team has that effect on me. Well, except for my darling. Though I doubt it’s possible for him to be as scary as Violet is.” He shivered, hand moving to caress the part of his throat where Violet threatened his life.

“He’d certainly spend less time in a box if he were,” Natasha cut in, sending a subtle glare his way.

Tony raised his hands in defeat as Bruce groaned. “Already? You already put him in the box?”

“He was so adorable Brucey,” Tony returned quickly, a cooing look taking over his expression. “So soft and needy, he was just begging for me to put my hands on him-”

“And then it all went to shit when he realized you intended to _lock_ him in a box?” Bruce shot back, exasperated.

“Only for a moment,” Tony stated in a rapid tone. So fast Bruce barely caught the words. “But then I _barely_ used my Alpha tone on him-”

“Jesus Christ,” Bruce took off his glasses, rubbing his face furiously. “You get one night with him and manage to fuck it up in what? 10 minutes? 5?”

“Actually, it was 24 minutes and 53 seconds,” FRIDAY’s voice stated promptly from the Stark Pad sitting in Tony’s lap. “Though if we’re only counting the time it took for Boss to decide to perform these acts with Mr. Parker, then the time would be 1 minutes and 37 seconds. During which Tony was reacting to Peter’s sudden presence and wondering whether Violet was going to rush into the room and kill him. When he realized she wasn’t going to be coming, he pursued Mr. Parker.”

“This is why I never programmed you to be my Lawyer,” Tony grumbled.

Bruce groaned again, “Jesus, Tony.”

“Now Brucey-Bear,” Tony cocked an eyebrow, “I’m telling you right now that if you were in that room with us, you would have been all for it. You would have bent me over and had your way with me while my sweet darling made those sweet, sweet noises from inside. Don’t you lie to me and say _, I would never_ , because you and I have done it many times. As a matter of fact, it was just last month right after I met Peter, and we handled those Alpha pups who were being mean to him-”

“This was not the time for you to pull that shit though,” Bruce growled, blushing slightly. “He’s not even an official Chosen yet-”

“And there’s the magic word Brucey,” Tony interrupted, “ _yet_. He’s not an official Chosen _yet_ , which connotes that it’s only a matter of time before he is-”

“And only when that time comes will it be appropriate for you to pull this shit,” Bruce interrupted with a glare, “and not a moment before.”

“But he was so _needy_ , what kind of Alpha would I be if I left him wanting?” Tony’s bottom lip jutted out, expression poorly mimicking puppy dog eyes.

“A smart one who would have kept the contract he made with Mr. Parker in mind before deciding to completely ignore it, and the consequences that were decreed within it,” cut in a sharp, displeased tone of voice.

Tony stiffened, head turning to meet the disappointed gaze of Edwin Jarvis. The polite Alpha was wearing a tweed grey suit with a red cloth sticking out from his suit pocket. He appeared most grim as he entered the room, rigid in a way that was not like the Alpha. Tony’s eyes widened slightly, dropping the act and straightening his back. “What is it Jarvis?”

“Apart from your bad behavior?” Jarvis returned with a steely tone. “There’s a slight problem.”

“What is it?” Bucky asked, speaking for the first time since he entered the room.

“Frank Castle and who I assume to be Deadpool have arrived.” Jarvis stated plainly, turning to address Bucky formally.

“Why is that a problem?” Natasha walked towards the pair, suspicion growing in her steely gaze.

“They are not alone,” Jarvis answered bluntly, “FRIDAY counted 3 others joining them. All men. One an Omega, the other two are Alphas. FRIDAY is directing them here as we speak.”

The atmosphere in the room changed dramatically and everyone went into motion.

_Violet_

Even though Violet is a mess of emotions, feelings she refuses to acknowledge despite the fact she knows she’s doing it, she couldn’t help but get lost in this moment of time.

The feel of the cold air seeping through her jeans, no longer blistering, but calm and soothing even with the speed she was going. The feel of the motor revving away and taking her deeper, and deeper into this wonderful, beautiful place. The way her body shook with vibrations, keeping her grounded and centered instead of letting her mind run away with everything she’s trying to ignore. It felt so good. The snow, the trees, the surprisingly clear roads. The air, the world around her, it was magnificent. Best part?

It’s just her.

No outside influences. No responsibilities. No friends in need. No worries. Nothing. Just her, the bike, and the open road.

 _I wonder if this is what Dean Winchester feels like? Riding along in Baby down the open roads_. Violet found herself pondering. _Or maybe even Jon Snow when he’s standing atop the wall, Ghost panting and curled up at his side. Daenerys and Drogon flying together over green pastures, burning Lannister soldiers as they go? What would they do right now? Would they have been so mean to Peter? Would they have left him, their family, for a few moments alone and a joy ride through the woods? Would they have done that?_

She wanted to believe they would, for one reason or another, but she couldn’t know. They were fictional characters she happened to partially relate to. Who was she to say what they would do in a very real situation? She liked to imagine, but there’s little time for imagination in the real world, especially when the real-world throws curveballs in the form of a wild animal standing in the middle of the open road.

Cue the absolute WORST way to meet a fucking Polar Bear.

That’s right. POLAR BEAR.

With a gasp, and a quickness she had no idea she possessed, Violet pulled the breaks and went sliding to the right. Narrowly missing the giants open jowls, and incoming swipe from its massive paw, before heading straight into the thicket of trees. Slaps from branches connecting with her legs and torso, snow launching and landing against her helmet -blinding her as a result- and suddenly she was thrown. Thrown into the air. _Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit_ , on repeat in her mind. Flying. She was flying. 

Due to the momentum, she landed on her back. Somehow tumbling/rolling forward not once, but twice until there was a loud _thud_ , a gong going off as her head smacked something hard and immovable, and then she was on her back once more. Her bike went roaring past her, barely missing her left hand. After a few more moments, there was a crash. The motor sputtered before slowly dying.

Then there was ringing. A loud ringing going through her ears. She groaned, hands moving up to move away the snow so she could see. Her body was cold, so cold, and shaky. Very shaky. It’s been a while since she was in an accident. She took a physical account of her limbs. She touched her hands to her ribs and wiggled her fingers. She gingerly lifted both legs, bent the knees, and then softly kicked the snow-covered ground, quickly wiggling her toes afterward. Good, all external limbs accounted for. Freezing and shaky, but otherwise seem to be okay. Her head, however, was not. It was pounding. A sharp pain just above her right eye. Also, it felt warm. Warm and almost . . . wet? She grabbed the straps of the helmet, unclipped them, then slowly worked the helmet off.

Just as she started, Violet caught a voice.

FRIDAY’s voice.

“Violet,” her robotic tone called out urgently. “Violet, are you alright?!”

Violet took a few breaths, pausing for just a moment to order her thoughts. “Is there such a thing as a calm, restful night where I’m concerned? Or am I just forever doomed to be Sam Winchester living constant disaster after disaster until I’m dead, or somehow con a turncoat angel into releasing me from my own personal Hell?”

“What happened?” FRIDAY inquired, sounding thoroughly.

“Polar Bear,” Violet stated in a flat tone.

“What?”

“A Polar Bear happened.” She groaned, moving to sit up. “I didn’t even know they lived in Norway.”

“They live in a specific part of Norway, but not this far south. Are you sure you saw a Polar Bear?”

At this moment, Violet sat up and managed to wipe off the last of the snow covering the face shield, and then paused. It was dark. Red. _Oh no_. Violet quickly worked it off.

Yep, that’s blood, and that’s not the only surprise she got.

She looked down at the helmet, touched the part of her forehead that was singing with pain, and was unsurprised at the sight of blood that bled through her beanie. Not good. She sighed, shaking her head in frustration when she looked up, and dropped the helmet. FRIDAY started calling her name again, but Violet didn’t care to answer. Her focus was on one thing and one thing only.

“Oh. My. God.”

The Polar Bear was right in front of her.

Jaw dropping, Violet went through the last minutes of what could have been the end of her life and tried to imagine how this massive animal could have followed her down whatever path she unwittingly took, and somehow ended up standing right in front of her without her noticing, or hearing it, until she laid eyes on it. She didn’t move, didn’t even breathe, simply watched the wild, ginormous animal gazing at her with coal, black eyes.

It, or possibly he, didn’t seem nearly as menacing now. His eyes were wide, almost inquisitive as he stared at her. Cocking his head slightly as he began sniffing her. Slight growl. No, not a growl. Purr. Yeah, it was more of a purr. Violet blinked. _The Hell is going on?_ He leaned in close, sniffing increased. More purring. Suddenly, his nose was right next to her bleeding wound. This time it was a growl. Thick and guttural. One last sniff, then his mouth opened.

“Please don’t eat me,” Violet pleaded softly. “I have three friends who aren’t done letting me down yet.”

A massive tongue came out, and Violet sighed in defeat. “Goodbye Life. You fucking sucked.”

Then she closed her eyes and waited. Waited for the hot breath, which came. Waited for the tongue, which soon followed as it began licking up the blood that was oozing from her forehead, taking off the beanie as he licked. She waited for the teeth . . . and waited . . . and waited . . . and waited. They didn’t come. Instead, all that happened was the bear kept licking and lapping at her head wound. She scrunched her face up, lips curling in as the bear started licking the rest of her face.

She started pulling away, ignoring the sudden dizziness as she did. “Is this a Norwegian thing? Licking people to death?”

The bear purred once more, going back to her head wound.

Violet pulled away even more, and shakily began standing to her feet, picking up her beanie as she did.

“No offense Mr. Bear, but I’m really not into . . . _licking_.” Violet shivered in disgust. “I tolerate it with most animals, definitely a no go with humans, and though I appreciate you licking my wound clean, I will not tolerate it anymore from you.” Violet muttered, groaning as she straightened herself up, feeling her spine pop in multiple places as she shoved the beanie back on her head. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to find the bike you inadvertently helped me crash. Pleasure meeting you, thanks for not outright eating me. Have a good day.”

She rolled her shoulders, gave the bear a two fingered salute, and then searched the area with a bleary gaze for the bike that was most certainly fucked up right now.

Instead, she found something else. Something awful. Something so heartbreaking she almost collapsed back to the snow covered at the sight of it.

Piles of dead animals.

Well, she thought they were animals. The pelts were gone. Sickeningly, she realized most of their . . . insides were gone too. All that was left were bones with bits of bloody cartilage. A cold chill went up her spine. _Oh God. Is this the bear’s eating ground or something?_ She turned back to look at the bear, but he didn’t look any more menacing. In fact, and she suspected the possible concussion had something to do with it, the bear looked sad. Head bent low, small whimpers emanating from his massive throat, pawing ground with his scary claws. Those coal-like eyes pleaded with her.

She returned her gaze to the horror in front of her, expression just as equally horrified. Though she didn’t want to, she surveyed the area. Looking for clues and such that could explain what happened here. Was it another animal’s eating ground? Something worse?

Of course, it was something worse.

Not even a few seconds of searching told her all she needed to know. Wedged in the bones or what Violet guessed to be a wolf, or something canine based on the shape of the skull, was a large hunting knife. It’s the type Frank would use when he went hunting with her Dad and Billy when she was 6 or 7 while she played around the tents with Frank’s wife and kids. She always wanted to join them, the mystery of knowing what they did all day fueling the desire, but her Dad never let her. _It’s not a thing kids should be privy to, even kids like you._ She’d huff and pretend to ignore him for a good while, but then race up and give each of them a hug before they’d leave for the day.

 _Mystery solved, I guess_.

She felt the urge to cry. Not sad, heartbroken tears. Angry ones. Rage filled, loathing tears. How could someone do this? She knew hunting was a thing, and she didn’t have a problem with it in principle, but this wasn’t hunting to eat. Didn’t even look like sport.

It was a slaughter.

She exhaled sharply, unsure of what to do. What could she do? She doesn’t have a magic wand to bring them back to life, a genie to wish them back, or a time turner to reverse what happened. No medical kit in the world could bring them back. There was nothing _to_ do. They were gone. They were gone and she didn’t-

A scratchy, screaming sound interrupted her mental tirade.

Far to the left, pushing aside a cloth Violet skimmed over in her search for what happened here, a furry face pushed aside the blood covered cloth, and looked at her with wide eyes. Violet’s eyes widened. That was not a wolf or a canine like creature. That was a cat, only it wasn’t a house cat. She wasn’t sure what type, but it was definitely feline though. Fur mismatched colors of tan and brown-like hues. The cat creature cocked its head, Violet found herself mimicking the gesture.

It made another scratchy, screaming sound, and then clumsily bounded towards her. Violet immediately moved, swooping it up into her arms and holding it tight to her chest. It continued making scratchy sounds, burrowing deep against her chest, and then another sound was made. A howl. A sharp, high pitched howl not far from where the feline emerged. Violet’s eyes landed on the source of the howl.

A wolf pup.

If it weren’t for the shocking blue eyes, she would have missed it. The pup was all white, blending into the snow almost perfectly. It bounded towards her with the same clumsy ferocity as the feline did. Yipping and howling with each step it took. Violet swooped it up just as quickly, unzipping her jacket slightly to tuck them in more securely, providing the pair more warmth.

The wolf howled, nuzzling its little face into the crook of her neck. She squeezed them both tightly, but not too tight. “Don’t worry sweetie, I’m not leaving you guys. Cuddle up right here, and I’ll get you somewhere warm.”

She surveyed the horrible scene a little longer, waiting to see more baby animals emerge. After another moment, she realized the ones she was holding were the only ones left. With a huff, she turned to face the Polar Bear, who looked significantly happier than before. “Since you’re the reason my bike wrecked, mind giving me a ride? I don’t know how much longer these two can take the cold.”

The bear nodded, _actually nodded_ , and bent a bit lower. Violet realized that he did indeed intend to give her a ride. So many thoughts wanted to roll through her head, but with the coos and pleas from the animals in her arms growing, she forced them aside. “Alright, fucked up Disney Princess moment, coming right up.”

Gingerly, Violet managed to climb onto the Polar Bear’s back. Not even a second after she was settled, the bear straightened up and pounded through the forest. It was at this time Loki drove past with the rest of the Omegas. All completely unaware that the bloodied Violet was unintentionally heading back the way they came.

Back to Loki’s Castle.

_Peter_

“Peter,” Wanda’s voice soothed, reaching a hand through the seats to pat his shoulder.

Peter was not soothed by her gesture, expression panicked as he continued to look out the back of the corvette. “Where’s Violet? We haven’t seen her at all. She could be _hurt_!”

“She’s perfectly fine, Peter.” Wanda continued, shifting her hand to gently rub up and down his spine. “She can handle anything.”

“But what if she wrecked?! What if she swerved and-and ran into a tree or something?!” His breath started quick, past little breaths that only amplified his panicked energy.

“Then the tree will die from sheer stupidity,” Rhodey mumbled, staring out the window like he was questioning his life choices.

“Or burned,” Loki cut in with a smirk, “the Soldier does love to set fires.”

“But then she’ll burn with the tree,” Peter piped in, on the verge of hyperventilating.

“I doubt she’d be stuck in the tree,” Pietro mumbled, an angry furrow to his brow.

“We don’t know because no one will stop!” Peter cried, gasping in another breath. “No one will stop to look for her!”

Then suddenly, they did.

Not the abrupt, swerving stop Violet was forced to make with the Polar Bear. It was slow, smooth, and quite gentle. Loki pulled off to the side of the road, put it in park, turned off the engine, then glanced over his shoulder to address the back with a smirk. “C’mon then.”

“Loki, what are you doing?” Rhodey glared at the Prince, hands ready and prepared to apprehend the Omegas in the back.

“Answering the boy’s request,” he gestured to Peter, who turned to gaze at him in relief. “He’s clearly out of sorts, and that simply won’t do. I have many activities for them to enjoy and people who desperately want to meet them. I won’t have them sullied by his current state.” He opened his door. “Stay with the Twins, I’ll make sure the boy gets his time to look.”

Then Loki exited the car, and Peter scrambled over Pietro’s surprised form to follow.

Instantly, Peter almost collapsed to the ground from the bitter cold wind. Arms wrapping tight around his ribcage, shrinking in on himself as he fought the buckling in his knees. Loki chuckled, gliding over to the freezing Omega, and grasped his upper arm in a surprisingly tight grasp. “Come along Mr. Parker. Let’s search for your dear friend.”

 _Yes_ , Peter thought desperately, _let’s find Violet_.

His determination dwindled not even a minute later. Barely stepping into the thicket of trees, snow from some of the branches above him fell onto the back of his neck and sent him squealing in surprise. Loki held onto his arm and pulled him deeper into the forest. Before long, they were out of sight of the corvette.

Which is when Loki tossed Peter against a nearby tree and watched him fall to the ground.

Peter gasped, cold and shock startling his entire system. What’s going on? What’s Loki doing? He scrambled to his feet, trying to stand up, but Loki pushed him back down with a firm hand on the back of his neck.

“In most facets of my life, I both need and desire the thrill of a challenge. However, that does not pertain to my particular tastes in the bedroom. There, I expect and command complete obedience. No fighting. Not struggling. Just submission.” Loki stated in his smooth voice, tone taking a dark turn. “Though my bedroom is far from here, I expect the same here, right now, with you.”

“Mr. Loki-” Peter tried but was pushed further to the ground as a result.

“You’re not my Chosen, Parker.” Loki continued without delay. “I know who you belong to, and I don’t care. I know this is against the _precious_ rules The Avengers set up to protect the pitiful like you, but as we learned just last night, those rules are far too easily manipulated to others selfish desires. Therefore, I think it best to just break them entirely, and create something new. Don’t you agree?”

“What are you-” Loki released Peter’s shoulder, only to grab him by his hair -beanie included- and yank it back in a harsh, painful movement.

“Don’t be the simpering quim we know you to be,” Loki’s eyes were like ice. Staring down at Peter’s kneeling form like he was a bug he wanted to squash. “You are not worthy of my affections or attention, Parker. The only reason I would spare this moment to educate you is on the behalf of our dear Violet.”

“Educate me?”

“Yes,” Loki pulled at Peter’s hair, forcing him up to gaze up at the frightening expression Loki wore. “There’s something you need to realize soon Parker. Quite soon, actually.”

“Realize what?”

“Violet,” Loki tightened his grasp in Peter’s hair, “is not a sister to you.”

Peter’s eyes went wide, “what? How dare you-”

“What kind of brother would willingly ally himself with a man who has brought nothing but pain to his life over the woman who does nothing but bleed and sacrifice herself for him?” Loki shot back venomously. “What kind of brother sits there and drones on and on about how that man makes him feel whole and complete while that woman holds back just how betrayed and alone she truly feels. What kind of brother fails to see the pain and anguish in his sister’s face when she’s looking him directly in the eye? What kind of brother forces his _sister_ to cater to his needs and desires when her needs and desires have been abandoned and neglected for far too long.” Disgusted, Loki leaned down slightly, getting closer to Peter’s face. “What kind of brother does that? To put it plainly, someone who isn’t. No brother would do those things, at least not good and loyal brothers. No Parker, you’re not a brother to her, nor is she a sister to you. What you are is a weak and pitiful little boy, and she’s your crutch.” 

Peter’s jaw dropped. “She’s not my crutch. She could never be.”

“Come now, you’re a smart boy. Naive and undeserving of Violet as a companion, but smart nonetheless. Think it over, think back over your precious moments together. Think, Parker. Think.”

Peter wouldn’t. “No. You’re wrong-”

“I’m _not_ wrong,” Loki interrupted, “and it’s time you realize that.”

“Violet’s not my crutch!” Peter tried to push, push the terrifying Omega away so he could run back to the car. To where Pietro and Wanda were waiting for him. Would protect him from Loki.

Loki shoved him against the tree, snow toppling down beside them. Loki ignored it. “Think about the last week. How many times did Violet actually sleep? How many times did she eat? How many times did you ask her how she was feeling, if she was okay, and what you could do to help her? Did you even bother? No. You didn’t. You didn’t ask her any of those things. You sat there and enjoyed the company we provided while she took care of you. _She_ made sure you slept in a warm bed while _she_ stayed on the floor without a wink, _she_ made sure you had enough to eat, _she_ checked in to make sure you were okay and felt safe, and _you_ didn’t lift a finger to do the same for her.”

One of Loki’s hands moved to grasp Peter’s jaw. “Then the moment she leaves you be, to search out some semblance of calm and peace for herself, you come rushing to her in a panic and forcing her to return to your side and cater to _your_ whims like the puppy you are.”

“I’m not a pup-” Peter tried to talk, but Loki tightened his grasp on his jaw. Continuing without delay.

“I’ve been watching this whole time Parker,” Loki seethed, “from the shadows and through the cameras the Avengers so graciously installed. I’ve watched the pair of you. I’ve watched you take advantage of her loyalties repeatedly. I’ve watched her give everything to you, sparing the harshness of the truth of your betrayal from you, again and again. I will not have it anymore. I won’t have you taking advantage of her kindness and loyalty anymore.”

“What are you-” Loki pulled Peter to his feet, trapping him against the tree without breaking his hold.

“While you and Stark engaged in some premature puppy play-”

“Puppy play?!” Peter was able to get out, trying to shove Loki away once more. “What are you talking about?!”

Loki paused, cocking an eyebrow, and staring deep into Peter’s eyes. A beat of silence. His face shifted into a sickening smile, and sharp, malicious chuckles soon followed.

“Wow, Stark’s Alpha tone really worked on _you_. Didn’t it?”

“What are you talking about?” Peter whimpered.

Loki chuckled once more. “Oh, I’m really breaking the rules today. I should thank you. I haven’t had this much fun since Peggy Carter foolishly thought she could tail me this past Valentine’s Day. Feels good.”

Peter blanched, breath coming quickly as Loki leaned in close, so close, to whisper in Peter’s ear.

“Last night was not merely a bondage session where Stark tied you down and watched you wiggle on the bed, though that is how most of the night went.” Loki giggled, excitement leaking into his voice. “Last night, Stark stripped you, bound and gagged you, shoved a vibrating dildo in your ass, locked your miniscule cock in a cage, and carried you to his closet where he put a collar around your neck, and locked you in his special box meant for his special toys.” Loki laughed again, breathy, and exhilarated. “I believe the tag on the collar stated _Tony’s puppy_. Not surprising based on how he just loved to call you _pet_.”

Peter froze. He stopped struggling. Stopped fighting. He froze, and nearly collapsed.

Oh God.

Like a dam breaking, Peter suddenly saw it. Felt it. All the places in his body that didn’t hurt two minutes ago suddenly ached and quivered with every movement he made. His heart sped up, hands shaking from more than just the cold. He remembered hearing it, remembered how turned on he was, remembered how scared he got, and remembered the loving look on Tony’s face before he pulled him close and used the Alpha tone on him. He remembered. He remembered it all.

And Loki gave him no time to digest it.

“Last night, while you were busy being Tony’s _pet_ ,” he laughed once more before the laughter abruptly died away, “Violet went out into the cold. She ventured outside wearing no shirt, no shoes, and drinking the last of the spiced rum without a care in the world. She stepped out into the darkness of the night and surely would have frozen to death if The Soldier hadn’t been waiting for her.” Loki paused, cold anger leaking back into his expression. “It’s our fault really. I want to blame it all on you, but I’d be a hypocrite on top of all that I already am, and that’s one thing I like to think I’m not. It’s our fault just as much as it’s yours.”

“She-” Peter stated numbly, “she could have died?”

Loki nodded. “We’re just as culpable in what happened, but none more than you. You who claim to be her brother is the reason for what happened last night. Your treachery sent her away and would have forever cursed her soul to aimlessly wander these lands for all eternity if Sergeant Barnes hadn’t been there. Your selfishness and self-interest almost took away one of the purest lights I’ve ever seen in this world. You did that just as much as our inaction did, and we’re going to rectify that. Starting now.”

“How?” Peter muttered, unsure of what else to say. To do. He was- Tony had- he couldn’t think. Loki wouldn’t let him think.

“I have separate plans for you today, Parker. You will stay with young Pietro and spend time with my sister Hela. She specializes in acclimating new chosens, especially weak and simple puppies like you. She’ll make sure you’re well taken care of until Stark and Rogers arrive to claim the pair of you. Violet and Wanda will be taking a separate trip together, one you don’t need to know about.” His eyes turned to ice. “You will not see each other for the rest of this day, and I won’t hear another complaint or cry from you. If I do, I shall inform my sister which will leave her thoroughly unhappy. Trust me when I say, you don’t want her . . . _displeased_ with you.”

Peter’s breath quickened. “But I have to see Violet. I have to tell her; we have to tell her what happened.”

Loki exhaled sharply. “Tell her what? Tell her what Stark did?”

“Yes!” Peter whimpered, attempting to grab Loki’s arms.

Loki pulled him away from the tree only to shove him back against it, harshly. Peter let out a cry of pain, tears forming in his eyes. He stared up at the tall Omega, heart beating impossibly fast.

“Do not ever touch me Parker and pull back those tears. They won’t do you any good here.” Loki stated in a severe tone.

“I have to tell her-”

“And why do you have to tell her?” Loki interrupted, disgust turning down the corners of his mouth. “So, she’ll handle it? So, she’ll rip Stark a new one, shock him in the dick, and then cuddle in bed with you until the big bad Alpha is gone from your mind? Like the crutch you treat her to be.” He shook his head, staring at Peter like he was vermin. “No, that’s not going to happen. It won’t happen because she won’t find out about this.”

“Wait, no-”

“Yes Parker, yes.” Loki cut in, painfully tightening his grasp Peter. “Violet almost died last night and all you can think to do is have her handle a problem you could have so easily prevented from happening. How? How could you have prevented it? By choosing to stay when she gave you the option to leave.” Loki spewed, eyes sharp and lethal. “To stay with her and be there for her, not skipping away to a man you’ve thoroughly underestimated, and with whom you have little to no chance of taming. You never should have left her behind, yet you did. You left her alone, now you must deal with this _alone_.”

Loki pulled away suddenly, releasing Peter from his grasp. Brushing off the snow on his coat before cocking an eyebrow and addressing the younger Omega coolly. “Let me put it in an easier perspective for you. Let’s prove to me, and to yourself, that you truly value her as your sister. That you’re right and I’m wrong, she’s not your crutch after all and I have horribly mistreated you. Let’s prove it.”

“How?” Peter murmured, rubbing his jaw.

Loki clasped his hands in front of him, watching Peter cruel eyes. “If the roles were reversed, and what happened to you instead happened to Violet, what do you think she would do?”

Peter opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

_Oh no._

Loki smirked. “Answer this one question for me, Parker. If you get it right, I’ll leave you be and allow you to tell Violet about last night in as much detail as you wish. Get it wrong, then you won’t tell her anything, and handle it yourself. Understood?”

Numbly, Peter nodded. He knows Violet better than anyone. This’ll be easy. He’ll answer this, then hunt Violet down so they can handle Tony, Loki, and everyone together. It’ll be great.

Loki straightened up, narrow eyes taking Peter in. “Apart from escaping and protecting her friends, what does Violet want most in the world?”

Peter’s brow furrowed. “Nothing. That’s all she wants in the world. She’s proved it time and time again.”

Loki’s eyes took on a dangerous look. His head shook side to side the tiniest bit. Barely a movement. A cold chill went up and down his spine. “A crutch. That’s all she is to you. All she’ll ever be.”

“You’re wrong-”

“No! You’re wrong.” Loki shouted, the force of the sudden tone sending Peter reeling back against the tree for safety. “You’re wrong to believe you are anything more than a simpering waste of a person. A dog wearing a human pelt. An obedient slave in the making. Stark couldn’t have found a better Chosen to suit his perverted needs.”

“Stop it!”

“No! Parker!” Loki returned in haste. “You stop it! Stop bringing her down, stop hurting her, stop giving her the reason to care for others over herself. Stop it, or we will stop it for you.”

“I’m not doing anything-”

“That’s right! You’re not doing anything. I doubt you’ve ever done anything that hasn’t led her to squander her needs and wellbeing in favor of nursing yours.” Loki’s hands clenched, clenched so tight Peter feared they’d break through the fabric of his gloves.

“What _does_ she want most?!” Peter asked suddenly, shooting Loki’s question back in his face. “If you think you know the answer, then tell it! What does she want most?”

Loki smirked, “to see the stars.”

Peter blanched, “what? Why would you think that?”

“Because when Sergeant Barnes and Ms. Romanoff asked her this very question, that’s the answer she gave them.” Loki smiled, an evil smile, at Peter. “And last night, after saving her life, Barnes granted that desire. He showed her what she wanted most, and I’ve never heard anyone become so pliant, so . . . at ease then in that singular moment.” Loki glanced away, looking up at the grey sky. “I just wish I could have seen her face.”

Peter couldn’t move. Whether it was the cold, the fear, the shock of everything. He couldn’t move. Could barely breathe. “How do you know all of this?”

Loki scoffed. “Boy, this is my home. Nothing happens in, or around, the castle that I don’t know about.” He straightened his coat, brushing off bits of snow he missed previously. “Keep your secret, Parker. Ensure that Violet knows nothing of it, or there will be consequences. More consequences than there already is, of course. Due to this little detour, you and Pietro will most certainly be late to see my sister. Seeing as you’re the cause of it, you’ll be in for a rough day.” He reached forward, grabbing Peter’s arm and dragging him away from the tree. “To put it bluntly Parker, you’ve made your bed. It’s time for you to lie in it.”

A few minutes later, Loki pulled a thoroughly overwhelmed Peter back to where the Corvette was waiting for them. Outside, Pietro and Rhodey stood toe to toe, glaring daggers at one another while Wanda stood in between them, trying to force them apart.

“I don’t care that you signed on, I’ll whoop your fucking ass if you ever think about ordering me around like some fucking dog. Just because you’re a Chosen doesn’t give you special rights. Not with us!” Rhodey growled, fists clenching painfully tight.

“Now’s not the time to fight,” Wanda urged, glancing at both men in turn. “Both of you need to stop before they come back.”

“Stop what?” Loki proclaimed loudly as he pushed Peter through the opening, barely keeping his grip as Peter clumsily almost fell to the ground. “I’d be most interested to hear.”

“Newbie’s got shit for brains,” Rhodey answered quickly.

“And you don’t have a backbone,” Pietro responded angrily.

“Ooh, color me intrigued,” Loki spoke salaciously, releasing Peter from his grip to step forward and grab Rhodey. “Don’t worry friend, Hela will set him right. No need for violence.”

Rhodey let out a growl, but otherwise backed off. “Take it there was no Violet?”

“Afraid not. I’m sure she raced ahead and is having a great time alone.” Loki gestured to the Corvette. Opening the door and landed his icy gaze on Peter. “Come now. We’re late enough as it is. Wouldn’t want to keep everyone waiting.”

Peter doesn’t remember getting into the car, but suddenly he was there. Sitting between Pietro and Wanda, who didn’t give him any attention apart from making sure he wasn’t too cold. Rhodey took the passenger seat, and Loki drove once more. “Now, time for Oslo.”

(Terrible. So terrible.)

(Seeing the baby animals)

(After Loki's conversation)

(What did he say to Rhodey?)

(Not sure how I missed this relationship *facepalm*)

(get ready guys)

(Shit's gonna go down)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will most certainly be AVENGERS vs X-Men (and Frank). What role will Violet play in the fight, or will she miss out? Will Brea emerge once more? What does Hela have planned for Peter Parker and Pietro Maximoff? Who is Violet's mysterious therapist? And finally, the most important question, who's going to take care of those baby animals???
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! Please leave a comment and let me know your thoughts, concerns, complaints, and all the feels this chapter gave you! I know I certainly got a few writing it XD. Happy Holidays! My goal is to get the next chapter out before Christmas . . . here's to hoping I actually can. 
> 
> Thank you again!


	39. Seven Nation Army

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fight breaks out, and secrets are revealed. 
> 
> Inspired by "Seven Nation Army", covered by Skald.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here guys! It's finally, FINALLY, here! I'm so sorry this took so long, this past month has been the absolute worst for me. Like, you have no idea. All the same, I was able to get back into my healthy writing mindset and now I'm back in the saddle and posting again! :D It's not my best work, and technically this is more of a part two continuation from the the last chapter, so if it feels short and wonky, that's the reason why. Also, Deadpool's here. It's gonna be wonky XD.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you guys enjoy the chapter!
> 
> Fair warning, when I said secrets are going to be revealed, I mean SECRETS ARE GOING TO BE REVEALED! Hold onto your butts! ;)

Chapter 38

Seven Nation Army

_ Loki’s Castle _

“Apologies for the extended wait gentleman,” FRIDAY’s voice sounded from a nearby Stark Pad set up on a coffee table. “The Avengers are ready to see you now.”

Charles never thought he’d find a phrase so terrifying. 

After waiting not so patiently in what he guessed to be a recently cleaned study, Charles was shaking. Shaking out of fear, anticipation, and utter reluctance. He never expected to come face to face with The Avengers, especially in such a fashion. In his wildest imaginings, only once did he think on how his first and only encounter with The Avengers would go. An encounter that would, at most, last a few minutes, and end with his body laying on the floor in a pool of his life blood. 

Now he was here, hopefully about to speak to them and not be killed outright. With them, it’s hard to tell on a good day. On a day like this, where two of the most feared members were in a bad mood, it was impossible to guess. Add in three surprise guests, one of which was blacklisted and permanently placed on their  _ kill on sight _ list, and Charles spelled doom. 

The only solace the Professor found was that Erik, his most loyal friend and Alpha, was right here with him. Facing what could be their death side by side. Just as Erik always said when describing how their paths would end. 

Speaking of, just as Deadpool grabbed the back of his chair once more, Charles reached out to grab his Alpha’s hand. “I’m glad you’re with me.”

Erik squeezed gently in return, a soft gleam glowing in his dark eyes. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Frank led the way with Erik, Charles, and Deadpool following closely behind. Logan held up the rear, tensed like a coiled spring and ready to lash out at any movement. Charles focused on breathing, settling his nerves and accepting whatever outcome this might take. Frank was a bristling ball of rage. Deadpool was surprisingly quiet, alert. Ready for anything. Erik held Charles hand, and Charles knew he wouldn’t let go until he was forced to do so. He found comfort in that knowledge, and found it easier to breathe. 

It took a few minutes to find their way to the main room, and each moment threatened to make Charles’ heart burst out of his chest. 

As they ventured towards the main room, Violet arrived at the castle. Holding the baby animals close to her chest with one arm while holding onto the bear’s pelt with the other. Her head was pounding furiously hard, blood had trickled through the beanie onto the snow white pelt and her grey shirt. She wanted to wipe it away, but she was in a hurry. The entrance where she just left not too long ago was in view, and she needed to get inside before it was too late. 

The Avengers were waiting in various states of distress. Tony and Natasha appeared cool and composed, playing with knives or flipping through files, while hiding their hesitation and unease. Bucky and Steve were just as wound up as Logan, and made no show to hide it. Bruce stood with Jarvis, their backs to the windows, and watched the room with obvious reluctance. Clint and Thor were still watching the windows, and gasped at the sight that suddenly arrived before them. 

“Call off the meeting,” Clint commanded. Pushing away from the window and sprinting towards the nearest hallway. 

Natasha raised an eyebrow, eyes widening at his sudden haste as she quickly followed him out of the room. Steve and Bucky remained still, eyes on Thor’s stricken expression as the Alpha turned to face them. Eyes wide and panicked.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked in a wary tone. Bucky stared daggers. 

“Violet’s back,” Thor responded, quickly moving to follow Clint and Natasha. “We need to get to her now.”

“What happened?” Bucky reached out, grabbing Thor’s arm with his metal hand and stopping the Alpha in his tracks. 

Thor didn’t waste any time to say, “look out the window and see for yourself. It’s hard to explain with words.”

Bucky eyed him carefully, searching his face for any semblance of deceit, then released him in a huff. He practically jumped at the window Thor just vacated. Steve quickly joined him. 

Their eyes bulged at what they saw. 

Violet, their darling Violet, was riding a polar bear. That’s right. A Polar Bear. One hand soldered to it’s snowy white pelt while the other held something close to her chest. Neither of their eyes lingered on the ludicrousness of the situation. No, their eyes were focused on one thing. 

The blood seeping from her head and falling down her pained face. 

The pair almost jumped into action, following Thor, Clint, and Natasha down the hallway in order to get to her and provide her aid, but that was not to be. A gruff, angry voice stopped them before they could try. A voice they knew all too well from their brief time in service together. A tone that made the most intimidating of criminals piss their pants. A tone that sent a shiver down Steve’s spine, and a cold sweat break out in Bucky. They turned towards the opposing hallway, knowing who was there without even thinking about it. 

Frank Castle, the Punisher, and boy was he pissed.

“Where the Fuck is my kid?”

He looked as he always did. Tall, menacing, and bruised up. Fists clenched, muscles bristling, and wearing black, militaristic clothing. His skull emblazoned vest revealed he was certainly more of The Punisher than Frank Castle today, but that didn’t matter. No matter how pissed he was right now, nothing could take Bucky’s focus from Violet.

Or so he thought. 

The sight of people standing behind Frank gave him pause. Particularly the tall man, Alpha from what Bucky could detect, wearing the red and black kevlar suit. Deadpool. He was pushing another man, an Omega, in a wheelchair who looked positively frightened, and failed to hide it. He wore a light grey button down with dark grey slacks and black dress shoes. Not at all prepared for the freezing weather that was consistent in Norway. Another man stood to the Omega, his Alpha no doubt based on how protective he appeared next to him. He wore a similar suit compared to the omega, except his shirt was black. He seemed familiar, but Bucky didn’t have time to place him.

Behind Frank, Deadpool, and company stood a figure Bucky settled on instantly. After glancing over the others and determining key facets of them, this figure is the one that grasped his attention. That stole his focus away from where it should be. Violet. His hurt and injured Violet. He stole it away, and he was going to regret it. 

Wearing the same leather jacket that he always wore with a white t-shirt, dark wash jeans and those black boots, a face emerged into the light that made Bucky see red. His Alpha red on full display as his instincts went haywire. His fists clenched, metal clinking and whirring from the sudden shift. The knuckles from his human hand nearly busted through his skin. A loud, animalistic growl ripped from Bucky’s throat, teeth bared and sharp.

Steve reacted much the same, his true Alpha colors emerging, only instead of a growl, he spat out a single word. 

“ **You** .”

A breath of silence. A single moment where no one moved. No one breathed. The briefest instance of calm. 

Then the storm began. 

Meanwhile, outside, Violet and her Polar Bear finally came to a stop towards the entrance. The Polar Bear panted happily while Violet fought to catch her breath, or rather her equilibrium. The pain in her head was getting worse, and the beanie wasn’t doing much to help slow the bleeding anymore. The world began to tilt dangerously fast, far too quick for the dizziness she was experiencing to be the cause, and Violet caught herself at the last second before she toppled to the ground in a bloody heap. The pups (she didn’t know what to call the feline) in her arms whimpered and nuzzled impossibly closer to her chest. 

“It’s okay,” she panted, gently tightening her hold on them. “You’ll be warm and fed in no time, and I’ll probably be strapped to a table and knocked out with drugs while you both live the good life . . . great.” She patted the Polar Bear’s head. “Thanks for the ride. Now do me a favor and stop hanging out in the middle of the road. Or at least don’t almost kill me again. Cool?”

The bear purred, tilting his gigantic head up at the touch of her hand. 

“No, I’m not petting you.” Violet grumbled, giving him a little scratch behind the ears before haphazardly swinging her leg up and beginning the surprisingly troublesome process of dismounting him. “Will you stop moving? These pups, sorry cat, need to get inside, and I need rum. A lot of rum.” She groaned, her free hand moving up to touch her head wound. “And a first aid kit with a new lease on life.”

The polar bear moved again, purr turning into a growl as he turned away from the castle. 

“You keep moving like this and I’m going to name you Twinkletoes. Your choice.”

The bear growled at the castle and started walking away. 

“Alright,” Violet shrugged, “Twinkletoes it is. By the way, the castle is that way.” She pointed towards the entrance Twinkletoes was walking away from. “That’s where I need to go.”

Twinkletoes growled again, and started walking faster.

“Dude, don’t make me jump down,” Violet grumbled. “Normally I don’t complain like this, mostly because I don’t care, but I’m done getting injured.” She raised her hand and started counting with her fingers. “In the span of just a few weeks I’ve almost burned alive in a building, got shot and left for dead in another building, been drugged and went through a fake heat that could have killed me during a HYDRA raid at Avengers tower, cut my hand and knee with a broken bottle I used to threaten Tony right in this very castle, nearly froze to death just a few feet away from us last night, and now I have a probable concussion from wrecking my ride to avoid hitting you by swerving into the woods and running into a tree. Sad part is, I think I’m missing some injuries.” Violet rolled her eyes. “My point is, my body is fucked and I don’t need a sprained ankle on top of all that, so will you just-”

CRASH!

Twinkletoes whimpered, entire body spasming with shock and coming to a halt. Violet flinched with him, head turning to the source of the sudden noise. 

Not far behind her in a growling heap, two men fought with a ferocity and intensity Violet’s only seen in movies and tv shows, or in animals fighting over the last bit of food. Glass and blood littered the snowy ground. Her eyes widened when a third man joined the fray. Crashing through another window and landing right next to the pair. He landed on his side, a pained cry escaping him as he rolled to his feet, turning his body to face the castle. Another figure emerged, and Violet’s jaw dropped at the sight of him.

“Frank?” She mouthed, no sound coming out as recognition hit her like a freight train.

Frank dropped out of the window, moving his neck side to side before his chest puffed out, filling his lungs with a deep inhale of air, and letting out his signature howl of rage. Charging down his opponent like a bull aiming to spear a matador. Violet’s eyes moved, bulging in shock. Steve. He was charging down Steve. He was bleeding, one hand grasped his side while the other was clenched and ready to fight. He was pissed too. She blinked, and looked at the other two men. Bucky. Bucky was fighting someone too. Someone with-with - What the Hell are those? Knives? Swords? 

Didn’t matter. 

Behind her, or technically in front of her considering how she was sitting on Twinkletoes, a shout briefly called her attention. “Violet!” It was Natasha. She knew that voice anywhere. Violet cringed at the realization, but refused to dwell on it. Frank was here, pissed as usual, and brought along a freaking samuraii dude that acted more like an animal than Twinkletoes. There’s no time to dwell on anything.

It’s time to act.

Without a thought, Violet threw herself off Twinkletoes, landing awkwardly on the ground due to her dizzy state and pounding head. She turned just in time to see Clint. Wait, Clint? How was he ahead of Natasha? She was right behind him so maybe he had a head start? Thor was bringing up the rear. Sheer terror prevalent in his expression while Clint’s was calm, cool, and collected. Same with Natasha.

“C’mon kid, we gotta go.” Clint grabbed her shoulder gently, piercing eyes instantly on her head wound. 

Just as he grabbed her, she pulled away. Steadying her stance and readying her foot. “Sorry Clint!” 

Her knee came up with a speed she wasn’t expecting, but wasn’t rejecting, and connected perfectly with his groin. A surprised grunt, pained whimper, and then Clint’s body crumbling to the ground. Violet shouted, “sorry,” once more as she turned away and began running towards the men fighting. 

_ What am I doing? What am I doing?? What the FUCK am I doing?! _

Natasha was right behind her, she can feel her advance, but that’s not stopping Violet. A few yards away from Frank and Steve’s increasingly violent fight, with Frank knocking Steve off his feet and onto his back, Violet bent down to drop the pups (sorry cat) onto the snow before rearing back up and picking up speed. She tore off the leather jacket, whipped it in front of her, and grabbed both sleeves. 

_ Here we go. _

Frank was distracted, all his focus on Steve and readying himself to pummel his fellow Alpha to a pulp, which gave Violet the perfect opening. Three more running steps, and she jumped, whipping out her jacket as she did. She jumped onto Frank’s back, taking him by surprise as her legs locked around his waist, and trapping his face with her jacket. Pulling it in front of him, then grabbing both sleeves with one hand to pull back sharply, obstructing his vision. The next movement, she reached down to grab his gun from his side holster, swung it up and hit him sharply at the back of his head. The move brought him to his knees, but his arms still moved to grab her. She adjusted her grip on the gun, and then hit him again. His body crumpled and landed in the snow. 

“Bet you regret teaching me that move,” Violet huffed.

Violet somehow managed to stay on her feet, breathing deep as she tried to stay focused. She looked at Frank’s fallen form, waiting until she saw him move a bit before looking up to Steve. He was still sitting, and his hand still grasped his side, but his eyes were wide. Shocked. Disbelief coloring his expression. Mouth open at an almost obscene angle. 

“Close your mouth, you look like a blow up doll.” Violet ordered as she straightened up, pointing to the pups (sorry cat) struggling to crawl back to Violet’s warm embrace. “Get those two blankets and milk, and get a first aid kit for your side. Now!” 

Then she ran off towards Bucky and the mysterious assailant. Behind her, Steve shouted  _ Violet, wait!  _ She didn’t stop though. She just kept going. The growls were becoming more animalistic between the pair, and she knew if she didn’t intervene, Bucky would become Yasha or something just as lethal. 

That can’t happen. It won’t happen. Not on Violet’s watch. 

Hands were on her shoulders, and Violet gasped. Natasha. She caught up with her. Violet reacted in an instant. 

Instead of trying to outrun her, Violet fell to the ground and curled up into a ball, causing Natasha to trip over her and fall to the snow a few feet in front of her. Violet grabbed a bundle of the snow, jumped back to her feet, and slammed it into the Alpha’s face. Successfully disorienting her, but not for long. Thankfully, Violet didn’t need long. 

Running once more, she charged towards Bucky and the assailant. Forcing her way through the snow, ignoring the pounding in her head and the aches in her body. She pushed, and pushed, and pushed. Fighting to get between the two Alphas looking to kill each other. 

The knives/swords or whatever the mystery man was using in one hand scraped against Bucky’s metal arm while the other narrowly missed Bucky’s right thigh. Oh God. They really are trying to kill each other. He’s trying to kill Bucky. 

Not fucking happening. 

10 more steps. Bucky headbuts mystery guy.

6 more steps. Mystery guy sweeps Bucky’s right leg and sends him off balance. 

3 more steps. Mystery guy’s claws, yeah let’s go with claws, swipe down from above towards Bucky’s right arm. 

His human arm. 

“No!” Violet shouted with a passion she didn’t know she possessed. Ducking under Bucky’s arm, hands reaching out and grabbing hold of the mystery guy's wrist while simultaneously pushing Bucky’s arm away with her back, using all the strength she had to stop the claws from taking Bucky’s other arm. He’s already lost one, she won’t let him lose the other. No way. NO fucking way. No one’s going to hurt him again. No one.

“Violet!” Natasha shouted, sounding impossibly close. 

Bucky grunted behind her. 

“No!” Steve screamed. He was still nearby, probably where she left him?

“Kid!” Clint cried, his voice the furthest of the bunch. 

“Release her this instant!” Thor’s booming voice sounded through the air, but it didn’t do any good. 

The claws were right in her face. Well, not  _ in  _ her face, but not by much. Millimeters away, the sharp claws lingered in front of her eyes. There were three of them, and each one looked like they were sharpened by the finest sword masters throughout the ages. Where were they coming from though? How was he holding them- wait. Were they coming  _ out _ of him? Her eyes went impossibly wider. Holy shit, they were. In between his knuckles they were connected. Bits of blood and cartilage protruding from the areas. They were part of him. In him. 

What the fuck has this guy been through?

Then she looked to his face, his angry and seething face, and a wave of recognition rolled through her. 

“Uncle Logan?”

At the sound of his name, his eyes settled on her. Not even a second later did the anger evaporate. Surprise and realization dawning on his face. “Kid.”

So many memories flooded her mind at the sound of his voice. At that one singular word he used to call her no matter how many times she corrected him. Eventually, since he insisted on calling her  _ kid _ , she started calling him  _ Wolverine _ in return. She meant it to be annoying, saying he wasn’t cool enough to be a wolf, but Logan only ever laughed and messed with her hair. She got the idea after watching animal planet as a dare and realized his hairstyle reminded her of the small and fierce animal. 

She laughed. A shocked, single laugh that resembled more of a gasp than a laugh. She felt her lips attempt to twitch into a smile, but the shock kept them at bay. “Since when did you become Freddie Krueger?”

He blinked, dark eyes assessing her before shifting to his hands.  _ Oh _ , he mumbled under his breath, and then the weirdest thing happened. The claws retracted,  _ retracted _ , at a slow and careful pace. 

_ Oh my God. I’m in a superhero movie. A soap opera and mafia inspired superhero movie. Fucking Hell. Well, at least it’s not Game of Thrones. Really don’t want to deal with dragons and white walkers. Fuck that. _

Once they were a safe distance from her, he pulled his hands out of her grasp, out of Bucky’s. His metal hand had a hold on Logan’s forearm just in front of Violet’s. He must have reached out at the last second to stop him. To help her. Holy shit, did he just save her life? Logan continued to pull away until he was a safe distance from Violet, and then let his lethal hands hang at his sides. She straightened up too, wiping the fresh blood from her face before settling her shocked gaze on the man in front of her. 

Aside from a few wrinkles and dark shadows around his eyes, he looked mostly the same as the last time she saw him. Apart from the clothes that is, though she found it comforting he was still wearing that damn leather jacket. Last time she remembered seeing him was also the last time she visited the beach. He helped her build sand castles and play pranks on Billy when he kept taking her frisbee away from her, and kept her company when Billy, Frank, and her Dad would wander off and talk shop about stuff. Whenever Uncle Logan was around, she never felt alone. 

Never.

Bucky’s hands were on her. Human hand on her shoulder, the metal arm wrapping around her waist, but she pushed them off. Walking forward slightly to address the man in front of her, shaking her head slightly as she did. “How are you here? Billy told me you died in a training accident.”

Logan eyed Bucky warily before turning his gaze back to her. “Technically I did, but it didn’t stick.” He gestured to his knuckles. Dark gaze narrowing at her. “Until about a week or so ago, I thought the Avengers here killed you alongside Billy. I’m happy to be wrong.”

“If only,” Violet mumbled. “Where have you been? After . . . after dad died, you just disappeared. Where were you?” 

Something weird crossed his expression. Pain. Guilt. Something she couldn’t define. Like he was putting his guard up, or something akin to that. “It’s a long story. To sum it up, Billy didn’t want me around you. He thought I was too volatile, too reckless, a few other things, and he thought seeing me would bring up bad memories for you. Add it all up, he didn’t trust me around you.”

“He had a Hell of a good reason,” Bucky growled, grabbing hold of Violet once more and pulling her close. “And don’t you fucking touch her.”

“Stand down Manchurian Candidate,” Violet rolled her eyes, attempting to pull away. 

“No,” Bucky growled, wrapping his metal arm more securely around her waist and successfully pulling her away. “Steve, you alright?”

“I’ll heal,” Steve’s steady voice sounded close, almost right next to them. “How do you know her?”

Logan’s eyes didn’t move from Violet. “Her Dad was my best friend.”

“I grew up with him,” Violet confirmed, “Logan used to tag along when Dad, Billy, and Frank with his family, did outdoor vacations and shit. Sometimes crashed at our place when he was working a job nearby.”

“Who’s to say my job wasn’t taking care of you?” He cocked an eyebrow, a tiny smirk emerging. “Babysitting you took a fucking army some days. Righting wrongs and giving people hell when you can barely stand in your crib. It’s a miracle the four of us managed to keep you alive.” Violet shrugged in response, ignoring how comforted she felt in Bucky’s protective embrace. Logan shook his head, grunting amusedly. “Same old Brea.”

“Actually-” Violet aimed to correct, but was interrupted by a figure suddenly appearing in front of her. 

“Her name is Violet,” Natasha growled protectively. Moving to stand in the space between her and Logan. “And you need to leave.”

Logan’s smirk disappeared, the angry gleam returning as he shifted his eyes to the Alpha in front of him. “I came for a reason. I’m not leaving until it’s done.”

“State your reason then,” Natasha responded smoothly.

He took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. “It’s-”

“Oh my Goodness!” A shocked, pleased scream broke the intense moment Violet had no doubt was beginning, and called everyone’s attention to the broken windows. 

Violet’s jaw dropped. 

A tall man in a red and black kevlar suit landed in the glass covered ground after jumping from the window, and turned to face the group. He had white eyes, clearly part of the mask he wore to cover his face. Gun holsters at his hips, and a pair of swords strapped to his back, the man was scary and clearly very dangerous. 

Yet, Violet wasn’t afraid. 

She knows she should be at least wary of the man. On her toes with her fists clenched and ready to either run or fight if necessary, but she didn’t feel any of those things. She felt . . . felt . . . safe. 

_ What is going on with me!? _

“It’s YOU!” He shouted with joy. Gloved hands cupping his face in shock as he skipped, actually skipped, over towards her. “It’s really you! You’re so beautiful! So strong and beat up and - and holy shit is that a kitten?” Gasp. “And a PUPPY!”

He pointed to the ground, and Violet looked down. Groan. The pups (sorry cat) had somehow managed to crawl their way through the snow, and were now desperately trying to scramble up Violet’s leg. She quickly reached down to pick them up, surprised and pleased when Bucky let her, and then took the opportunity to get closer to the menacing man. Well, tried to. Steve moved to step in front of her, forming a protective barrier between her and the new mystery man. Bucky moved back in to wrap his metal arm around her waist once more.

“Shut up, Wade.” Logan growled, glaring at the man like he was two seconds away from killing him.

“Wade?” Violet repeated, leaning to the left to peer around Steve. 

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” He returned smoothly before pointing directly at Violet. “Though you can say it as much as you want babycakes.” He clapped excitedly, bouncing up and down in place. “Gosh, it’s so nice to finally meet you. By the way, I’m so proud of you. Riding in on a Polar Bear- wait-what did you name him?”

Violet cocked her head slightly. “Twinkletoes.”

“Ooh, good one! Can I ask why? Wait! No, hold on. Rewind.” He held hands out, two steps back while gesturing the rewind symbol with his twisting fingers. “ _ May  _ I ask why?”

Violet blinked. “He wouldn’t stop moving when I tried to jump down originally.”

“Good call,” the man, Wade, approved. “Anyways, I’m so proud of you Violet. You are such a badass! Riding in on a Polar Bear, saving a kitten and a puppy, kicking Legolas in the balls, knocking out The Punisher!! Holy shitballs, I’ve wanted to do that for AGES. You’ve no idea. Slapping the Black Widow in the face, then coming to the Winter Soldier’s rescue and protecting him from Mr. Broadway over here,” he pointed to Logan with his thumb, “truly epic! Granted, it’s nothing on what you’ve done in the past. The Omega Protection Agency is absolutely nothing without you girl. Nothing. The moment you got taken, everything went to shit, and I do mean everything. But enough about that. Is your tooth okay? I know it’s been bothering you for awhile-” 

“Do I know you?” Violet interrupted, eyebrows in her hair.

“Technically no,” Wade shrugged, “but Brea does. I met her after you,” he winked, “sweetiepie, managed to escape HYDRA and successfully pissed them off to no end. Awesome job, if I do say so myself. Totally impressive. You made them break all the rules in their stolen book of whatever and had them put out a nationwide hit on you. Not just a regular hit where a death and a body for proof was required, but a  _ wanted alive _ hit. That never happens. Well done you.” He clapped again, and she could see his happy smile through his mask. 

“And how exactly did I earn such a feat?” Violet asked numbly. 

“That’s what we’re here to find out,” a grumbling voice sounded behind Wade. 

Uh oh.

Frank was awake and standing a little unsteadily on his feet. He looked pissed, but not anymore than usual. He glared at Steve and Bucky, switching his gaze to glare at Wade and Logan, then landing on Natasha as he walked towards the group. Wade bowed to him as he moved past him, Steve shifted to the side to allow Frank to pass, Natasha and Bucky backed away slightly to give him room, and then he was right in front of her.

Right where she wanted him. 

Without saying anything, Violet shifted the animals to her left arm and shot out with her other arm, aiming to punch him in the groin. He backed away just in time, exhaling sharply at the near miss. “Violet-”

“Traitor!” She yelled, trying to kick him. “You’re a fucking traitor!”

“Violet, you’ve gotta listen!” 

“I don’t have to listen to shit you fucking turncoat!” She tried to kick him again, but was stopped when Bucky pulled Violet into his embrace. Both arms carefully circling around her and the pups (sorry cat) and pulling her back against his chest. “Let me go asshole!”

“Kid,” Logan cut in, ignoring the blatant glares aimed his way. “Listen to him. This is important.”

“Not another word to her, traitor.” Steve growled, teeth bared.

Violet grimaced at him. “Logan’s not the traitor, this dipshit is.” She gestured to Frank. “And why the Hell are you calling Logan a traitor?”

“He used to work with us,” Bucky growled. “Served in the army with him and Frank. We were brothers in arms.”

“Until he left Bucky in the wind and got him captured by HYDRA.” Steve growled, looking positively lethal. 

“I didn’t leave him in the wind,” Logan seethed, a piercing gaze trained on Steve. “I made a bad call.”

“Yeah, and your  _ bad call  _ caused Bucky to lose an arm, get his brain scrambled, and become HYDRA’s perfect weapon.”

“Wait, really?” Violet mumbled, studying Logan’s expression. “You’re the reason?”

“I’m not proud of it,” Logan murmured, guilt leaking into the crinkle of his forehead. “But I’m not here about my past mistakes. There’s no fixing them and I’ve accepted that. I’m here to look out for her.”

“You’re not going anywhere near her,” Bucky growled, pulling her impossibly closer.

“She has to know, all of you have to know what’s happening. There are people that are coming for her.” Logan pressed. 

“Like that’s new,” Violet grumbled, “I’ve been running from these assholes for the last five years.”

“This is different kid-” Frank tried to add in.

“Fuck off traitor,” Violet growled, aiming to kick him again.

“Damnit kid, I’m trying to protect you.”

“If you wanted to protect me, you would have gotten me out of that damn Med Bay, grabbed Peter, and hid us in a shack on a beach in Mexico. Or an Igloo in the North Pole.” Violet shot back. “At the very least put up a fucking fight. Not give your express permission for a pair of murderers to do whatever the Hell they want with me after they drugged me and Peter and then took us captive you fucking dick!”

“So that you can what? Go back to the streets? Sleep in Central Park? Hang out with your buddies in the sewer?” Frank returned, on the verge of yelling at her. “How about get in more fights than you can handle with dumb Alphas who have shit for brains? Get taken by HYDRA again? Not eat or sleep for weeks on end? Sneak into the hospital so Claire can stitch you up because you weren’t able to. Hmm? That stuff?”

“If you really had such a problem with it, why didn’t you do something about it sooner?”

“Because after you walked in on Karen and me during my rut, you didn’t trust me at all. If you did, you would have called me the moment Peter mentioned hanging out with Tony Stark. When it comes to Peter Parker, nothing else matters. Been that way since you punched a Doctor in the dick for him. You wouldn’t have relied on your  _ Omega Protection Agency _ , you would have called  _ me _ . Just like you did when Billy was murdered. I wouldn’t have had to wait for Matt to fill me in and then arrange a pickup to save your ass. If you trusted me, you would have called and I would have been there every step of the fucking way. You didn’t though. You didn’t call because you don’t trust me, and if I tried to do anything to get you off the streets, you would have told me to fuck off and ran the other way.”

Violet blinked. “Is that why you let me leave? After that bullshit meeting with that Madani agent, or whatever the Hell her name is, is that why you let me crawl out the window? Because you were convinced I didn’t trust you?”

“Yes.”

Violet scoffed. “Great, thanks for proving I’m not only a lost cause, but a total douche on top of it. Awesome.”

“That’s not what I-”

“No Frank,” Violet cut him off, “I get it. I get that I put you into a position where the only thing you felt justified in doing to ensure my  _ safety _ is to hand me over to The Avengers who just so happen to be your old war buddies who butchered your friend/my brother on what turned out to be a false charge. Great. I’m so  _ happy _ to know I put you into that position.”

“False charge?” Frank questioned.

“They killed him for stealing, but butchered him for something he didn’t. Bruce’s psycho ex-chosen enacted a stupid protocol and framed Billy for  _ murdering her child  _ and almost killing her when in reality she had a miscarriage and threw herself down the stairs to cover it up. Seems super far fetched, but I watched a video and read a medical document that proved just that.”

Now Frank blinked. “Fuck.”

“You’re telling me.”

He took a breath. “Good hits.”

“Huh?”

“The takedown I taught you,” Frank explained, “good hits. Nice and clean.”

Violet shrugged. “Thanks.”

Breath of silence. No one moved, but their expressions remained sharp, fierce, and cognizant. Violet took the moment to breathe, and avoid the flicking tongues from the animals trying to lick her face. 

Unfortunately, the moment didn’t last long, and Logan was the one to disrupt it with bold, harsh facts. 

“HYDRA is after you, kid.” Logan started, earning Violet’s attention once more. “They caught wind of a man who encountered an Omega similar to Omega 13, the one they’ve been hunting the past year and a half.”

“Ergo, me?”

“Of course you!” Wade cut in with a hop. “And boy did you make them desperate! They had to resort to using some common criminal The Avengers used to try and infiltrate their ranks!”

“What?” Everyone, apart from Logan and Frank, responded in surprise. 

“Not what, who?! And the who is some schmuck called Zebediah Kilgrave. He started talking about some Omega who  _ did not _ act like a normal Omega, and not in the normal defiant way. Like, just  _ did not _ act like an Omega. At all. They offered the guy five million dollars to track this Omega down and give them it’s location. Turned out to be a bust because the Avengers took Kilgrave and made him disappear. But! Kilgrave had an ace up his sleeve, special courtesy of one of HYDRA’s scientists injecting him with a special microchip that can disrupt certain frequencies within a certain radius. Frequencies that are most commonly used by a specific A.I.”

“FRIDAY,” Violet mumbled, memory coming back to her. “That’s why everything stopped working all of sudden. Why she went into shutdown mode and trapped us inside the tower when those goons invaded.”

“And why HYDRA was able to get in without FRIDAY alerting us.” Natasha concluded, turning slightly to look at Bucky. 

“And why they wanted to find Kilgrave so bad, but how did he know I was- oh wait! Nevermind. I remember.”

Natasha cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me, you pissed him off when you stole his phone?”

Violet narrowed her eyes. “I’m getting obvious, aren’t I?”

“No,” Natasha smirked, “we just know to expect everything where you’re concerned.”

“Do I want to know how  _ you  _ know I stole his phone?”

Natasha’s smirk grew into a salacious smile, “probably not. But I will say this, you didn’t make it easy.”

“Ooh!” Wade squealed, “sexy compliment!”

Violet grimaced in response, and Natasha winked at her before Violet continued. “But if he was going to get paid 5 million dollars for me, why the Hell would he shoot me?”

“HYDRA boys promised to pay him for the location, not the body.” Wade shrugged.

Violet thought about it, then nodded. “Makes sense. Shoot me and leave me there, tell HYDRA where to find me, and he gets a payday. Well, in theory. Instead he now lives the rest of his life in a giant cylindrical test tube with no arms, legs, or a tongue. Horrible trade off.”

Bucky leaned down slightly behind her, lips suddenly at her ear. “No one will ever hurt you again.”

“Doubt it,” Violet responded, but she’d be lying if she were to say she didn’t almost melt at that solid, passionate whisper. “And you assholes better not pull that shit on anyone else. That’s just wrong.”

They didn’t respond, nor did she expect them to.

She continued after another breath of silence. “Wade. How do you know all this?”

“Kilgrave and the HYDRA boys were chatting it up in front of my friend Weasel. He works at a bar specially designed for mercs like me, except not nearly as fucked up and charming. Those idiots were talking about it over drinks, and set up the whole thing over a couple of buttery nipples. Buttery nipples! How lame! Weasel told me all about that on my way over here. Though it would have been nice if he told me sooner. Bad Weasel. Don’t worry though, I’m gonna give him a good pounding when I get home.” He started gyrating his hips, and made grunting noises.

Violet grimaced. “Ew.”

“Ooh! Brea was right! You  _ do _ hate sex!”

Violet blinked. “Okay, how the Hell do you know Brea?”

“I ran into her at the hospital your friends took you too after they found you unconscious at the zoo. She woke up instead of you and tried to escape. We clicked instantly, and we’ve been best friends ever since. She likes to call me Mama Bear.” He squealed, clapping once more. “God it’s so nice to finally talk to you. I’ve wanted to for ages, but Brea and I agreed it wasn’t a good idea because you can’t stand Alphas and I just so happen to be one.” He kicked the ground pitifully. “Stupid biology.”

And just when Violet was going to press him for more information, particularly the stuff he and Brea got up to in their free time, he jumped once more and said the one thing that sent Violet’s already sucky world into a whirlpool of pure, fucking pain.

“Oh! By the way, your Dad’s alive!”

_ Meanwhile, inside the Castle. _

“Violet has what?!” Tony stated in disbelief, arms crossed over his chest.

“T-Two T-Two F-Fathers,” Charles stuttered, staring down at the floor in shock. 

What has he just done?

“Violet has two fathers?” Tony repeated, cocking an eyebrow. “Are you shitting me?”

“He’s not,” Erik glanced down at Charles, visibly shaken by Charles' blatant announcement. The plan was  _ not  _ to reveal that bit of information to anyone apart from Violet, the one person who genuinely needs to know, but that went out the window when Logan’s Alpha aggression was triggered by Barnes and Rogers sudden response to him. Deadpool didn’t help matters when he went to the window, choosing to cheer Violet on from the sideline instead of joining the fray and putting an end to the mayhem until after it was over. The plan was to talk about Omega 13, what they knew about it, and attempting to negotiate the return of their comrades. 

Instead, when Tony Stark looked directly at Charles and posed the question  _ what are you doing here _ , Charles responded with, “Violet has two biological fathers.”

Great. 

Tony started laughing, “I’ve heard it all,” while Bruce meandered forward to address the too more formally. “How can you be sure of this?”

“We ran her DNA through a database,” Erik responded smoothly, squeezing Charles hand gently to stop him from talking anymore as he built his lie. “We received an anonymous tip that there was more to her than met the eye. We originally believed it had to do with her evolved Omega status, but clearly there was more to it than that. Before you interject,” he held up a hand, realizing Bruce’s incoming question, “we triple checked to ensure that it was in fact her DNA before continuing our progression. Through our search we found hints of Alpha DNA that didn’t match her father, nor her mother. That led us to our conclusion, and part of the reason we are here in front of you today.”

“And what’s your other reason?” Tony chuckled. 

It took everything for Erik to keep his expression calm and in check. “To discuss Omega 13, Violet’s involvement, and to negotiate the retrieval of our team.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “Your team, huh? I’m sure we can come to some sort of-” 

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” entered a tired, panting voice. 

Everyone in the room turned towards it. Expressions ranging from angry to annoyed, apart from Charles who looked absolutely shocked at himself. Expressions that immediately eased at the sight of the interruption. 

Dr. Strange. 

He wore his signature charcoal gray slacks with black shoes. The only part of him that didn’t appear rumpled or hazardous. His white shirt wasn’t smoothly tucked as it normally was, puffing out a bit around the belt. His sleeves were rolled back, something he normally does when assessing a patient. Something he clearly wasn’t doing unless he was secretly creating his own version of Frankenstein’s Monster in his guest room. The top of the shirt was unbuttoned, more unbuttoned than was accustomed to him. Hair sprawling this way and that, facial hair untidy and unkempt. Not the usual standards where the Doctor was concerned. It could only mean one thing.

He was working hard, arduously so, at researching something. It’s the only explanation. All the signs were there for the world to see. Tired eyes, less than perfect state of dress, along with a lack of indentations for goggles and perspiration from his surgical clothes, everything pointed to research. The one time Dr. Strange reverts back to his High School self and dives head first into the books. What he was researching no one could guess, but surely they were going to find out. 

“Strange,” Tony addressed him, eyeing Erik with an arrogant look as walked towards the newly arrived Doctor. “What brings you here?”

“Professor Xavier,” Dr. Strange stated in a huff, holding up medical files and pointing towards the man, “FRIDAY was helping me listen in when I heard what Professor Xavier said, and I had to come to tell you I have proof of his claims.”

“Claims?” Jarvis interjected, cupping his hands in front of him. “Are you referring to ones where Violet supposedly has a second Father?”

“I am,” the Alpha ventured deep into the room until he stood in front of the coffee table, tossing the files onto it. “And they’re true.”

Jarvis reared back, as did Tony and Bruce. As Dr. Strange opened up each file, everyone moved in to get a closer look. Tony hovered just behind Strange. Jarvis and Bruce remained by the pool table where they could watch Erik and Professor Xavier, who moved in a bit closer, wearing a sorrowful expression.

“All of these are Violet’s bloodwork. I was looking into some of the anomalies, trying to decipher whether they were truly present because of her evolved Omega state or if something else was at play here. I wanted to be sure they weren’t a side effect of HYDRA, or another traumatic event that potentially altered her DNA. I ran the sample I obtained from the gauze that was used to dress her wounds through a database, just to cover my grounds, when it came up with this.” He picked up a specific file, rifled through it for a moment, pulled out a singular piece of paper, and handed it to Tony. “They’re not anomalies, they’re signatures of alternate DNA strands.” He pointed to paper. “Strands belonging to an Alpha with altered DNA. Proving Xavier claims.”

“Altered how?” Bruce inquired, brow furrowing with concern. 

Strange pointed to Tony. “Shortly before your father died, he was working on what was supposed to be the equivalent of the Super Soldier Serum. Turning Alphas into the ultimate weapons and such. Do you remember?”

“Very much, considering Brucey and I were among his test monkeys,” Tony grated, dropping the files to cross his arms over his chest. “Why do you ask?”

“Because what was supposed to be the Super Soldier Serum only served to make Alphas knot quicker, provide them less of a refractory period so they can continue to breed as long as they want or need, and made their seed much more potent. Making it nearly impossible to  _ not  _ conceive a child with someone who had the ability to bear one, even if the bearer is on birth control. It’s the one component Stark managed to replicate from the serum Barnes and Rogers were administered. However, the serum was discontinued and destroyed because of the side effects that left Alphas more susceptible to severe mental illnesses. Personality disorders in particular. Most of them became psychopathic, apathetic, others developed separate personalities, you name it.”

“Wait- so Stark’s Serum caused mental illnesses?” Jarvis cut in, cocking an eyebrow.

“No. Trauma and certain events that can be categorized as trauma, or sudden and overwhelming, caused the illnesses. The serum simply made them far more susceptible.”

“Uh huh,” Tony nodded, rubbing his face in frustration, “and if weren’t for the mysterious whistleblower in my Dad’s inner circle, no one would have found out for years to come.”

“Unfortunately,” Strange nodded in agreement. “There were also side effects that appeared in any offspring that were a result of the serum. The susceptibility was there, but only to an extent. They tended to be more violent, apathetic in certain cases, but what was most noted was the sudden change in behavior towards the Alpha tone. Particularly in Omegas. Some expressed a severe subservience to it, akin to mind control, while others were able to fight against it. Defy it outright in some cases. With Alphas and Betas, it made them more violent towards one another when it’s in use.”

“So the serum made kids fight each other more?” Tony cocked an eyebrow, glancing at Bruce. “Can we count that towards all the stuff we got up to in our teen years? We did engage in a fair amount of  _ wrestling _ if you catch my drift.”

Bruce closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly. “Probably, though you could have gone without mentioning it.”

“Nah, not really.” Tony patted Bruce’s shoulder, smirking at his fellow Alpha’s embarrassment before his eyes widened. “Wait a minute. Could this serum be the reason why Bruce got  _ hulkified _ ?”

Strange blinked. “It didn’t occur to me, but I’d reason that could be the case.” He turned slightly to address Bruce. “The serum you created went through several trials, all of which were reasonably successful despite not achieving the desired effect such as Rogers and Barnes current states, before you administered it yourself. You were the only one who responded negatively to your serum. Perhaps that was the missing link. The altered DNA due to Howard Stark’s experiments was the reason the Hulk was born?”

“Fucking figures,” Tony cursed, “I’m glad the old man’s dead.” 

“What does this have to do with Violet?” Bruce questioned, tone firm and unyielding, jaw clenching. 

Strange sighed. “The anomalies are present because they’re genetic. Passed down from a parent to a child.” He pointed to the paper again. “Scott Abernathy doesn’t have it, nor does Carla Russo. I even checked Billy’s past bloodwork. They’re not there. Which means-”

“Her other parent passed them down to her.” Bruce surmised. “Which means the Professor here is telling the truth.”

“Why is this important?” Tony cut in, shrugging his shoulders. “Apart from clearing the scholar’s name here, all this sounds like is more bad news for the kid after a lifetime of dealing with horrible shit. Don’t get me wrong, it explains a lot. Especially how she always manages to find a sharp object just in time to threaten me with it, jumping in head first when danger comes knocking and all that jazz. Still, why does it matter though?”

“I know who Violet’s other father is.” Strange sighed, a forlorn look taking over his expression. “It’s important because he’s someone we’ve met before. Someone who’s caused the Avengers a lot of grief in the past. Someone who’s currently on The Avengers hit list.”

Silence.

Eyes widened. Jaws dropped. Glances rained across the room, gauging the room’s reactions. 

“Hit list?” Bruce spoke first, eyebrows in his hair. “One of our enemies is Violet's second father?”

“Yes,” Strange nodded, “but thankfully it’s not Ross, or Pierce, or anyone in the rival Mafias. Nor is it Mr. Howlett.”

“Then who?” Tony squeaked, hands shaking as they grasped each opposing elbow. “Please don’t let it be me. I think she might eat a bullet if it’s me.”

“I’m sorry, when did  _ you  _ get put on our hit list?” Bruce growled, expression unreadable.

“Natasha can be very vindictive,” Tony shrugged, “we’d be fools to put it past her.”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed, then he shrugged, accepting Tony’s explanation.

“It’s not you Stark,” Dr. Strange assured, “nor is it Barnes, Rogers, or anyone on the team. That includes friends and allies of the team as well.”

“Well, who is it then?” Tony relaxed his shoulders slightly, though his expression remained intense.

Strange didn’t say anything, but he pointed his gaze behind Tony. Behind Tony and near the couch. Directed it to the man standing next to the billionaire. The man whose eyes widened in shock, almost falling back to the couch when the realization dawned on him. 

“Me?” The man stuttered, taking off his glasses, and addressing the Doctor in disbelief. Hints of green fluttering through the brown in his eyes. “I-Is it - is it me?”

Strange took the paper from the table, snatched up all the files he laid out, then walked towards the flabbergasted Alpha. “I’m sorry Bruce, but no. I was hoping it would be you, the DNA structure was very similar, but it wasn’t a match.”

Bruce physically deflated. “Then why are you looking at me like that? What’s going on?”

“Because you’re going to hate who it is.  _ Hulk  _ is going to hate who it is.” He stretched out his arm and handed him the files. Teary eyes filled with concern. “Just remember that Violet is better than him. Far, far better. Please make sure Hulk remembers that too.”

Bruce blinked, staring at Strange like he didn’t recognize him. Still, he took the files from his outstretched hand. Taking a breath to compose himself, Bruce opened the folder and peered through them.

It didn’t take long for the bomb to drop.

“No.” Bruce uttered, eyes bulging and slightly shifting green. “ _ No. _ ”

“What is it?” Tony’s brow furrowed. “Who is it?”

“That fucking reporter,” Bruce growled, grasping the fragile files in a death grip. “The guy who managed to write an  exposé on my failed serum. The guy who almost ruined us when he caught wind of what happened to Billy.”

Tony’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull. “Brock? Eddie Brock is Violet’s second father?”

“I’m afraid so,” Strange interjected, head bowing slightly. 

“Holy fucking shit,” Tony cursed, hands going into his hair.

(Bad Wade!)

(Logan attacking)

(Ready for a fight)

(Preview for the next chapter)

And FINALLY! The BIG REVEAL!

(Eddie Brock)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprised? Satisfied? Disappointed? 
> 
> Raise your hand if you guessed Violet's second father? Yes? No? Huh. XD
> 
> And what about Deadpool's truth bomb?! Like, WHAT?! Bad Deadpool. How do you think Violet's going to react?
> 
> Next chapter will officially take place in Oslo, and Hela will make an appearance. Wonder what's going to happen. Will Peter be okay? Will Violet meet her handpicked therapist courtesy of Dr. Strange?
> 
> Only one way to find out :D :D :D.
> 
> Thank you guys so much for reading, and hopefully I'll be able to get the new chapter out sometime next week! You guys are amazing! And as always, please leave a comment to let me know your thoughts, feels, and any ideas for what might happen next! :D


	40. My Mother Told Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Hela tells you to do something, you do it. Unless you're the Black Widow.
> 
> Songs that inspired the chapter.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5e4m4-F5dow (Run by Skald)  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n2-R1KR7sfI (My Mother Told Me)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here! It's finally here you guys! I'm so sorry about the wait, I know it's atrocious and terrible, but I'm working on fixing that. Hopefully. Sadly though, there's going to be a longer wait coming for the next chapter and I do have a good reason for it. Be sure to read the end notes to find out what's going on with that (it's not serious, everything's good).
> 
> Until then, I hope you guys enjoy the chapter! :D
> 
> Also, Potential triggering gif at the end.

Chapter 39

My Mother Told Me

_Oslo_

“This is him?” 

“Yes, Hela. This is him.” 

Loki’s smile was salacious and mischievous, a signature smile that clearly defined who he was to the very core. A man with a trick up his sleeve, and sexual thoughts filling his mind. His hand gripped Peter’s shoulder tightly, but not painfully, and pushed the trembling Omega forward. 

Peter and company arrived in Oslo nearly 2 hours ago, and Peter has not been aware for a single minute of it. After his confrontation, or rather ambush, in the snowy forest with Loki, Peter’s brain shut down and blocked out everything that didn’t have to do with the turmoil that was taking over his mind, and potentially melting it. He didn’t think about anything. Didn’t come up with plans or apologies or any resolutions. Peter simply froze, almost catatonic, and sat still as he relived what he expected to be the most painful memories he’ll ever have. 

_What you are is a weak, pitiful little boy, and she’s your crutch._

_Call me Master._

_A crutch. That’s all she is to you. All she’ll ever be._

_Good Pet._

_While you were busy being Tony’s pet, Violet went out into the cold._

_Open your mouth, pet._

_Violet almost died last night and all you can think to do is have her handle a problem you could have so easily prevented from happening._

_That’s it pet, trust your master. Trust in me._

_Keep your secret, Parker. Ensure Violet knows nothing of it, or there will be consequences._

_So perfect._

_You’ve made your bed. It’s time for you to lie in it._

_You asked me to keep you Peter. How else do I keep my pets?_

All those horrible words, insults and persuasions, plagued Peter’s once bright and open mind. Now it was dark and chained to these horrible memories. Locked away in a box, just like Tony did to him. It was like he was still in the box. Still tied up and gagged, trapped without any means of escape. He couldn’t figure out how he got out of the box, or why Tony released him in the first place. He tried to think about that night, but most of it was a blurry haze. Whether it was the Alpha tone, the alcohol, or something else just as ominous at play, Peter didn’t know. All he knew was that no matter how hard he tried to think, he just couldn’t. He couldn’t think past this. Couldn’t think up a plan to make this right. He couldn’t . . . he just couldn’t.

_Don’t worry., you won’t remember any of this._

But he did remember. Loki made him remember. He made him remember so that he could hurt him. Hurt him the way he believed Peter hurt Violet. That was something else he couldn’t get past. Violet almost died. Violet, his sister, almost died because of . . . because of him. Because of Peter. 

So much pain, so much agony filled his chest at the thought. Violet. He did that to Violet. To his sister. To his . . . _crutch_. Oh God, what if Loki was right? What if he wasn’t being cruel for cruelty’s sake. What if all the things he told Peter were valid points that were masked by Loki’s anger and loathing of Peter. What if it were true?

 _What is the thing she wants most in the world?_

He-He didn’t know. He never asked. Why didn’t he ask?

Did he even know Violet?

He knows what she’s done, what she believes, and all those she’s fought for. He knows she won’t stop fighting for what she believes no matter how hard or how hurt she gets. He knows her loyalty, her selflessness, and her willingness to do what’s right. He knows she’d take a bullet for him, for anyone really, and fight the whole world to protect him just as she would cuddle in bed all day with him. He knows what she is. 

But does he know _who_ she is? Her preferences? Her desires? What she likes to do in her free time? Her favorite foods, music, and general stuff that all friends and family should know about one another. _Does_ he know?

He wasn’t sure.

It was so hard for him to think, to move past all those cruel words from Loki and horrible persuasions from Tony. How can he move past all that? How can he focus on anything _but_ that?

He can’t. He just can’t.

For nearly 2 hours Peter has sat or moved about in a daze. He hasn't uttered a word since Loki’s ambush. Didn’t pry, didn’t hold onto Pietro or Wanda, didn’t do much really. Just sat, stared, or moved with the group without realizing what they were doing at all. He didn’t notice Wanda’s attempts to coddle him, or note her reassuring whispers that Violet would be there soon. Didn’t catch Pietro’s increasingly worried glances as his silence continued. Glances that shifted to Loki with suspicion before turning away. Didn’t detect Rhodey watching Peter with increasing unease. Didn’t perceive Loki’s growing smile and amusement. 

He didn’t notice anything, not until _she_ came into view.

They parked in the middle of the snowy street amid a heavily trafficked area. Wanda and Pietro remained seated in the car while Rhodey stood guard outside of it. Leaning on the hood and glaring at Pietro with the utmost scrutiny through the windshield. Pietro glared right back at Rhodey, not sparing an ounce of attention towards Peter. Wanda’s eyes took in the scenery, wide with amazement at its beauty. 

There weren’t many vehicles to be seen, but there were a ton of people. People that gave the group a wide berth and didn’t dare to go near them. All bundled up and racing through the area with excited faces, carrying bags brimming with all assortments of items. Christmas lights twinkled and glittered among the buildings and windows in which they were hung. Peter blinked, believing he somehow stepped foot into a Christmas card amid his daze, but then he turned his attention to the woman standing in front of Loki.

She wore all black. Tight fitting pants, linen shirt, leather jacket, and knee high leather boots. Her ebony hair was straight, dripping past her shoulders to the middle of her back. Smokey eyes, plump red lips, and pale skin. She was beautiful, possessing the same type of alien beauty as the mischievous Omega. Peter thought she might be Loki’s twin. 

He wasn’t completely wrong.

“Little brother,” she smirked, dark eyes looking at Peter like a wolf would look at a rabbit. “You disappoint me.”

“I didn’t pick him sister,” Loki chuckled, “I’m only the messenger.”

“Who would anyone pick such a gentle, simpering creature like this?” Her long, elegant fingers reached out. The nails were painted red, Peter didn’t notice that before. They grasped his chin, and turned his face this way and that. “He’s too soft. Too breakable. A bubble yet to pop.”

“Right you are,” Loki released Peter’s shoulder, running a hand through his hair and pulling it sharply. Peter flinched, whimpering at the movement. “Stark chose him. Admires his brain and wit.”

“Ah,” Hela nodded, running a thumb over his bottom lip. “Of course. A mind that runs wild with possibilities, and a body that follows his every command in spite of it. A perfect pet for the corrupt genius.” Hela tightened her grip on Peter’s chin, and leaned in close. “ **Kneel**.”

Peter dropped to his knees in an instant, eyes never leaving hers and all broken thoughts thrown from his mind. Whatever fear or shock he might have felt was nonexistent. Nothing else mattered in this moment. Only the Alpha’s command.

Hela’s mouth turned down in disgust, eyes narrowing as she released his face. “Oh dear. A puppet. How droll.”

“I concur,” Loki grumbled. “Not even an ounce of fight in this one. He deserves what he gets.”

“Why do Americans desire such a thing? What’s the point of courting and mating when their Omegas are nothing more than pre-packaged dolls who are no better than 10 dollar sex toys? Truly, what is wrong with them? This,” she gestured towards Peter’s frozen form, “is an insult to the gender.”

“Slaves to convenience?” Loki proposed. “Though that could apply almost anywhere with decent internet, money to spend, and the lack of will to do much of anything. By the way, this simpering waste has earned a name.”

Loki grabbed Peter’s hair and slung him forward, forcing Peter’s hands to catch him before he face planted the ground. Hela hummed, boots crunching the snow as she stepped around to look at Peter’s back. 

“Ratatoskyr?” She voiced in surprise. “This _thing_ has caused that much trouble? Really?”

“Indeed. Though not in the traditional way as the troublesome squirrel from our myth, he has certainly caused many a strife among our group. Particularly for another new acquisition.”

Hela cocked an eyebrow. “I heard there was another chosen plucked alongside _this_ , along with those two roasting in the car, but I’ve not heard more. Who’s the lucky Avenger?”

Loki grinned. “Lucky _Avengers_.”

Hela’s eyes widened in shock. “No. Barnes and Romanoff?”

“Not just them,” Loki slyly glanced at the car towards Pietro. “I told you that one was Chosen by Rogers, right?”

“Yes,” Hela confirmed, “and I told you I didn’t need to instill any rules in him because The Captain prefers his partners to be more independent. He also prefers to do his own form of rule reminding. Thus, he’ll be the only alpha they’ll listen to.”

“Well, he’s not just Rogers’ Chosen. He and The Captain are preparing to form a pack with Barnes and Romanoff.”

“A pack? Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“With only one Omega?” Hela appeared skeptical, doubt highlighting her smirk,

Loki chuckled. “Barnes and Romanoff’s chosen _is_ an Omega. An Omega with two scent marks.”

Hela’s smirk fell. “Two? Two scent marks? How old?”

“18, soon to be 19, and unmated.”

“Fuck off. An 18 year old unmated Omega with two scent marks and living in New York City? No fucking way.”

“Believe me, dear sister. I had trouble believing it myself right until the moment I met her. She’s truly something. You’re going to love her.”

“It’s hard to not love a fantasy when it’s laid out so temptually,” Hela remarked with a laugh. “So where is she? This miracle of an Omega.”

“On her way,” Loki glanced at Peter, disgust coloring his expression. “I decided she needed some time to herself. She’s more than earned it.”

“You, putting the needs of Omegas over your own desires without your Alpha ordering you to do so? What’s come over you? Where’s my despicable brother gone?”

“He’s still living and thriving with all sorts of deplorable tricks up his sleeve,” Loki winked before sighing, admiration dawning on his face. “You’ll understand when you meet her. If I had the opportunity to know her before Barnes and Romanoff laid claim on her, by Odin I would have taken her. _You_ would have fought me over her.”

“Really? Would I?”

Loki nodded. “To be quite honest, if Rogers hadn’t signed off for the pack, I’d still consider fighting for a claim on her. The temptation remains even after he’s joined. Thor feels the same, though he’ll never admit it.”

Hela’s eyebrows went up to her hair. “Really? Thor?”

Loki shrugged, gesturing to Peter with disinterest. “Well, he’d prefer _this_ over Violet because he already has his hands filled with yours truly. Thor thinks it’s sweet and adorable, like a puppy. Or perhaps a child’s teddy bear? Revolting. Still, it makes my mate laugh and provides him something to coddle and care for. If Thor truly decided to fight for him, I wouldn’t stop him.”

“Yet he’s still interested in her?”

“Yes, well, you know my mate and his bleeding heart. Can’t help but attach himself to those who need someone steady and warm in their lives. Someone who will go out of their way to see the other smile or get a good nights rest. To fill their belly with food and drink, and hug them close however much he deems necessary.”

“Careful brother,” Hela smirked, “your bleeding heart is showing.”

“Oh dear sister, as if I ever bothered to hide it.”

“Only from Dad.”

“Yes, dear old Dad.”

There was a slight, awkward pause between the two. A pause that seemed to stretch minutes instead of the few seconds it was. Hela shook her head, chuckling to herself. “So, if this _thing_ was troublesome enough to earn a name, surely this miracle Omega has earned one as well.”

Loki grinned. “Just you wait, sister. Just you wait.”

And they did wait, but not for much longer. 

In fact, not even two seconds later, a smooth and sultry voice called to their attention, forcing the siblings to turn on their heels and look behind them. Their eyes went wide, and the fists subtly clenched.

“Heimdall,” Loki greeted warily.

Heimdall is a broad shouldered, tall man who always wore a serious expression and a gold bracer emblazoned with the sigil of Odin on his right arm. The bracer was a key component of his job as head of security for the Odin Family. It was merely decoration, a tradition that’s carried on throughout the years to signify to the people of their Kingdom that whoever wore that bracer were not people to be messed with. Not because they were under protection of the Odin family, but because _they_ were the ones who protected the family and would kill anyone without a second thought. The bracers used to be collars due to the old guard of ancient times using slaves to protect them. Thankfully, that tradition has long since died. 

The security force was small, but durable and lethal. Heimdall took his position of authority quite seriously, and ensured the rest of his force treated their positions with equal vigor. The man rarely smiled, seemingly only doing so when Thor was around, and was not the man to invite to parties. Unless the party required an elite security force, then he would be top of the list. As a party goer, absolutely not. He wasn’t to say a bad party guest persay, he’s simply far too observant.

The man saw everything. Everything. No one could get anything past him, especially the Prince and the Queen he’s tasked with guarding.

“What’s this I hear about fighting for a claim?” He inquired in his deep, unintentionally sensual tone. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but didn’t your father ban such barbaric actions shortly before he died?”

“He did,” Hela answered bluntly, crossing her arms over her chest. “Something we have no intention of pursuing.”

“We were jesting Heimdal,” Loki scoffed. “No need to fret.”

“Where you’re concerned, Prince Loki, jesting and strategizing are one and the same.” Heimdall retorted, shifting his piercing eyes between the siblings. “Like brother, like sister.”

“Oh, must you always ruin the fun?” Hela rolled her eyes, turning away from him and back to Peter. “Now, what to do with this?”

So fast, neither of the siblings saw it coming, Heimdall grabbed hold of Hela’s arm and pulled her away from Peter. She gasped, ready to strike the man until she realized how close those piercing eyes were. Instead, she pulled out of his grasp with a huff, straightened out her sleeve, and glared at that man. “What was that about?”

“He is not a thing,” Heimdall growled. “You know better than to speak of people that way. Your mother taught you better than that.”

Hela continued to glare, but she bit her bottom and pulled back a step instead of lashing out. Loki, however, stepped forward and raised a finger to Heimdall’s unimpressed face. “That _thing_ is a waste of our gender. He’s a puppet, a useless wretch no better than a toy-”

“Omega, beta, or Alpha doesn’t matter to me, Prince Loki, nor should it matter to you.” Heimdall returned easily. “And clearly he’s of use to someone since he’s been chosen by an Avenger-”

“To satisfy sexual urges, nothing more.” Loki cut in lethally, but Heimdall wasn’t intimidated.

“Whatever purpose he serves has nothing to do with you or your sister, and you will do well to remember that. Otherwise, I will help your mate concoct a lasting punishment that will remind you of that fact. Do I make myself clear?”

“Why must you always involve Thor?”

“Because he’s the only person you’ve ever bothered to obey, however briefly it may be.”

Loki shrugged. “What can I say, he just knows how to push my buttons.”

“And possesses an unending patience that makes him worthy of being your Alpha.” Heimdall concluded. “Something I’m quickly running out of.”

“Has anyone told you that, for a beta, you have quite the domineering presence-”

“We have no time for false courtesies,” Heimdall interrupted Loki. “The Avengers are on a manhunt for two dangerous threats that escaped into the forest, and I need to see all of you safely to Valkyrie’s Keep. The Black Widow and Hawkeye, along with your mate, are waiting for us there and will not be pleased if we take our time.”

The amused expressions slid off the siblings faces. “What happened?”

“All you need to know is that two armed and dangerous men managed to escape the Avengers shortly after bombarding their planned meeting today. They’re in the wind, and no one is safe until they’re caught.”

 _No one is safe_ . The words crashed through Peter’s dazed mind. _No one is safe._ That means . . . that means Violet isn’t safe. She’s not here, she’s out there. Out there with these dangerous men the Avengers lost. Out there on her own with no one to protect her, no one to warn her. Out doing who knows what. Out there in the unknown where she could be at the mercy of dangerous men.

She’s out there, all alone, and Peter can’t do a thing about it.

“Where’s Violet?” Peter spoke for the first time in hours, staring up at Heimdall with big, pleading eyes. “Where’s my sister?”

Heimdall’s expression darkened. Not with anger, but with unease. Loki’s expression shifted to fear at Peter’s question, and his widened eyes immediately started looking about the area. Meanwhile, Hela seemed confused. “Violet? Who’s that?”

“Barnes and Romanoff’s Chosen,” Loki stated offhandedly. His undivided attention on surveying the town.

“She interrupted the meeting,” Heimdall began to explain, eyeing Peter carefully. “She went back to the castle for reasons that were not specified as is what occurred when she left. Apparently she helped the two assailants escape, and now she’s in the wind as well. Needless to say they are looking for her too.”

Oh God. 

Peter forced himself to his feet, shocking the hell out of Hela as a result. “Why did she go back there? Was she hurt?”

“I don’t know, little one.” Heimdall answered promptly. “The Black Widow and Hawkeye know more than I.”

“Then let’s go to them,” Peter sniffed, chin trembling. “Let’s go to them and ask what the Hell they did to Violet that sent her running off alone in the freezing cold with two dangerous and armed men.”

And with that, Peter pushed past the two salacious siblings and headed straight for the corvette where Wanda, Pietro, and Rhodey were waiting. He entered the car in a huff, and tuned out anything and everything the twins asked him. He didn’t pay attention to their faces, didn’t pay attention to Loki or his sister when they forced their way into Corvette alongside Rhodey. He didn’t pay attention to his racing heart and chaotic thoughts. Didn’t pay attention to the whispering exchange between Loki and Hela, or their sharp and curious glances back to him. All his attention was focused on Heimdall who stayed outside in the cold, on the car when it began moving past him, and on the scenery in front of him as they ventured deeper into Oslo.

A few minutes later, the car stopped in front of a dark, almost dingy tavern that didn’t match the rest of the Christmas card like scenery of the town. The windows of the place were dirty and through them shady characters with suspicious expressions could be seen inside. Peter barely spared them a glance as he opened his door and stepped back out in the blistering cold. 

However once he was fully out of the car, he was overwhelmed by the strong and sudden urge to jump back inside and curl into a ball. The adrenaline of helping his friend, his sister, that surged through him mere moments ago quickly depleted at the sight of the person he meant to confront about Violet’s current predicament. Something that is a lot easier said than done when the person in question is Natasha Romanoff. 

Natasha Romanoff who was joined by Clint, who looked mighty angry, and Thor, who looked positively worried.

The rest of the car quickly vacated the Corvette, and though Peter was the first to get out, he was the last one to the group as they surrounded the three Avengers. 

“What happened?”

“What’s going on?”

“Where is everybody?”

“Is everyone alright?”

“What happened to Violet?”

“Where’s Violet?”

All these questions were asked simultaneously, stumbling over one another as everyone rushed to get them out. Didn’t matter though. Natasha's steely gaze was focused on the area, completely ignoring the group of worried Omegas, disgruntled Beta, and curious Alpha. Clint was the same, going so far as to physically move away from the group as his eyes scanned the area. Thor was the only one who had the decency to at least look at them, but he didn’t provide any answers. Even when Loki pushed the others, placed his hands lovingly on his mate’s face, and whispered something no one could here. Thor merely shook his head, leaned in to kiss Loki on his cheek, and then nodded towards the bar.

“Get everyone inside, quickly. Once everything is handled, and everyone is safe and accounted for, I’ll tell you everything my love.”

“Not good enough,” Pietro growled but to no avail.

Thor backed away, nodding towards the group without taking his eyes off of his mate, before turning away and following Clint towards the middle of the street. Pietro surged forward, intending to follow the only Alpha who bothered to speak to them, but was stopped with a sharp turn from Loki. The taller Omega grabbed Pietro by the front of his jacket, pulled harshly, and forced Pietro into the bar. The door gave way to Pietro’s weight, and caused him to stumble inside before falling to the ground with a loud thud. Wanda gasped at the action, running inside to attend to her brother. Peter felt a hand on his shoulder, Rhodey’s hands, and felt himself be pushed inside as well. He was going along with it, knowing full well he wasn’t going to get answers out of any of them if he tried to do anything, when something happened.

Screams.

Not the screams of people who were running away from two dangerous men. Screams of shock, surprise. Screams that weren’t filled with terror or fright. They were screams of something Peter couldn’t pinpoint, something he couldn’t understand. 

Screams that were coming from behind him. 

Natasha, Clint, and Thor all adjusted their stances to face what was coming. Expressions intense, worried, and nervous. Without thinking it through, Peter wiggled his way out of Rhodey’s grasp, earning a curse from the disgruntled beta as a result. He evaded his hands, and ran into the middle of the street, trying to find the cause of the screams. 

And when he found it, the oddest thing happened.

Peter stood in the middle of the snow covered street. His eyes went wide, jaw dropping, and heart pounding hard and fast against his chest. A cold chill overtook him, a chill that had nothing to do with the freezing temperature. He stood frozen, watching the strange sight unblinkingly, and listening to deep, entrancing voices as they began to sing.

Sing.

_My Mother told me, Someday I would buy_

_Galley with good oars, Sail to distant shores_

_Stand up on the prow, Noble bargue I steer_

_Steady course to the haven_

_Hew many foe-man, Hew many foe-men_

Beautiful, deep voices of men singing solemnly, proudly from inside the bar. Singing like warriors returning home from fighting a battle from ancient times. The words were slightly slurred, implying drink was heavily involved as they repeated the lyrics again and again. It didn’t diminish their tone, nor the impressive bellowing sound that escaped them. It was perfect timing, them singing this song, because a warrior of her own right was walking down the street.

Violet.

She was bloody, half her face and most of her shirt covered with it. She wore no jacket, and the blue plaid shirt was gone, leaving her only with the grey shirt with the strange nordic symbol. She held something to her chest with her right arm, something fluffy and moving as it continued to crawl up to her neck. Well, failing to crawl up since her arm kept them in place right at her sternum. Her expression was intense, focused, determined. Peter had no idea what was going through her mind, but he knew it wasn’t good. Not at all. Her left arm was outstretched and holding-

Holy shit, she’s riding a Polar Bear!

How Peter didn’t catch that, he has no idea, but he certainly caught it now. Riding the gigantic beast into town, she truly looked like a warrior plucked out of ancient myth or a fantasy novel. The blood, the determination, the unlikely steed taking her where she needs to go. It was breathtaking, astonishing. 

It was Violet.

“Holy shit,” Hela murmured next to Peter, causing him to flinch violently. When did she get here? She must have followed him when he wormed his way out of Rhodey’s grasp. “Is that the new Chosen?”

“Yep,” Rhodey grumbled from the other side of Peter, “that’s her alright.”

“Fuck,” Hela breathed, “now _she’s_ an Omega.”

“Still finding it hard to believe, but yeah.” Rhodey concurred softly. “Seems like it.”

Hela exhaled sharply, a single laugh emanating from her. “Freyja? Good choice, dear brother. Very good choice.”

“Say one more word about her, and I’ll happily start a war by slitting your throat and bathing in your blood.” A cold, smooth voice broke through the dazed moment. Peter tore his eyes away from Violet and the Polar Bear, turning to see the interaction with fearful eyes.

It was Natasha. She moved to stand behind Hela when Violet was spotted, and now the two Alphas faced each other head on. Hela smiled, a little nervously but also arrogant and cocky. Natasha didn’t smile at all. Her eyes blazed. Intense. Lethal. Terrifying. Peter backed into Rhodey at the sight of them, not wanting those lethal eyes shifting to him. Rhodey immediately started pulling him away. 

“Get inside with your friends, and I’ll make sure Violet’s okay.”

Peter didn’t believe that for a second, but there was nothing more he could do. And truthfully, he didn’t want to be out here at all. Especially when Hela stepped into the Black Widow’s space, got into her face, and boldly stated. “Loki’s right, she most certainly seems like an Omega worth the fight, and since she’s still unmated, most definitely up for the take.”

Peter has never ran so fast in his life.

(Hela seeing Violet)

(Loki being Loki)

(Natasha threatening Hela)

(the symbol on Violet's shirt)

(the symbol on Peter's back)

(kind of what Violet looks like)

* 

*

*

*

*

And a Preview

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, what's going to happen next? Is Violet okay? What's Natasha going to do to Hela? What will become of Peter? Was Loki truly joking around, or is he trying to make a move? What really happened at the castle? Who are the mysterious armed men in the forest right now? So many questions, so little answers XD. 
> 
> So, the wait for the next chapter is going to be longer due to "Be Brave, Little Fox" coming to an end, and Part 3 beginning. I'm not telling you what it's called because it's a little spoilery, but you will find out once the prologue is out. Hence the reason for the long wait for the next chapter, which will be the final chapter of Part 2. I'm not posting the final chapter until I have the prologue for the new chapter written and ready to post, that way you guys can immediately head into the next work and not have to wait for the new one to be posted. Hopefully you guys are okay with that, and I hope to see your wonderful comments soon :D.
> 
> Thank you so much!
> 
> Also, because you guys are awesome, I'll tell you who the next chapter is focused on.  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> Natasha and Violet :D :D :D


End file.
